Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Selfish

“Here’s to the girl who gave love a whirl, and found a world falling apart; 
She gave love a chance in her one dalliance; returning all broken of heart.”

Dear Darling,

I see them out there constantly, don’t you? The girls that have been railroaded by what they thought was love.

Now don’t think for a moment I spare men. Perhaps my assumption of their character is so low that, while I do not excuse their behavior, they are such fools that they do not surprise me.

Women are such wondrous, graceful creatures; their foolishness surprises me.

Sometimes, they meet me and they are reminded of what they could have had. Darned if that doesn’t just eat me up inside.

Or sometimes, they meet me and think they’ve finally found what they didn’t know they were looking for — a noble end to their long and storied wanderings.

I wish there was something I could do…I wish I could give them all a part of me.

Darling, this may sound arrogant. Please believe me, such remarks come only from a sad and lonely heart, lamenting the human condition not just because it renders him an isolated romantic nomad, but lamenting it for its own sake.

Let me explain.

I am secure in the knowledge that my love goes beyond feeling. I know altogether well the resolve in my heart to love, honor, cherish, protect you. I know that these are the virtues a woman deserves, even if she does not earn them. And I know that I can provide them. Is a builder arrogant for laboring many years to establish a strong roots, a solid foundation and sturdy walls? By God’s grace, I have sought — or, asked God to — sculpt and shape me into the man my wife would desire.

In short, I know I cannot treat a woman perfectly, but I know I can treat her well, and those are better odds than I would give any dozen men she might find on the open market.

But as I mentioned before, relationships are the one area where I get to be selfish.

I know I could never make you happy unless I woke up every day basking in the quiet revelry and happiness of love. And as I’ve explained before, somehow in my narrow mind, that joy is diminished by the notion of sharing you with the past, with your memories, with other men. I feel a need, an ache for that clean slate on which we may both begin, whole, unspoiled, new, fresh, clean.

Ah, but I dwell once again too keenly on that subject. I write merely to say I find it sad and ironic to see women now…and who they could once have been.

People desire to be good, or even great. But few of them take the steps necessary to achieve those goals. I truly do wish I could give all of them the gift I’ve cultivated and stand ready to give to you.

And so, in your absence, my love burns unabated and enduring, awaiting only the magic of your eyes, the sound of your laughter and the warmth of your embrace to unlock its doors.

Love,
-Beren

April 18, 2012 - Posted by | Loneliness, Purity

1 Comment »

  1. […] way I feel. And have I not the right to choose for my own happiness as well? Have I no right to be selfish? I don’t feel with them; and my happiness counts too. Sometimes I think I should feel. […]

    Pingback by What If It’s Me? « Letters to Luthien | August 17, 2012 | Reply


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