Unconditional

 
Dear Ms. Unconditional,

You write brilliant contracts.  Effortlessly.  Something about the exacting science of summing up the terms and conditions of the work at hand speaks to your soul.  Not that the contracts you have for your company ever really hold any true weight, rather there is a slip sliding of verbal negotiation that happens during every renovation that completely negates the concise parameters of the signed document.

Your job as the coordinator is to hover between the workers and the client in such a way that each feels validated.  Not easy, especially when you are working with those who have had their home torn apart and are living on pop tarts and gas station coffee while doing dishes in the bathtub.  It's empathy that allows you to be brilliant at your job, along with an innate design capability and an easy going personality.  Too bad you cannot write a contract for your next relationship, we all know that it would mean next to nothing and the conditions put forth by any honest man would never be met.  Somewhere in it would be the verbage that you were to be pretty at all times, ask for nothing, work out every day, be available for what they want when they want it, listen to them drone on and on about their work and their problems, be successful, a brilliant cook, lover, and housekeeper.  And because of your empathy, you would as always try to meet these parameters and you would fail again, as usual.  Rather, turn the shredder on and do away with all of the past documents that define what you can and cannot be in order to be loved.  Make it a loose, peaceful space where everyone feels validated, without rules, subsections and consequences.  It can be one line, signed and initialed by both of you, and it would simply say "I agree to love you unconditionally."