Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

In Anticipation of…Oneness

“Two hearts, believing in just one mind
Beating together till the end of time
You know we’re two hearts believing in just one mind
Together forever till the end of time…”
Phil Collins 

Genesis tells us marriage is the reason a man leaves his parents for a wife, and the two become one flesh.

It’s not just talking about sex. “Intercourse” — whose meaning is now almost exclusively sexual — merely used to mean interaction and interchange. There’s more to the picture than sex. There’s two entire lives we’re talking about. There’s atmospheres and gravities and orbits.

Becoming one is an ongoing process of merging and becoming one union — a process that will take our entire lives. That’s what marriage and sex symbolize, a unique and special oneness shared among two separate and distinct beings. We know little to nothing about each other now. We’ll gradually meet and ask each other a few simple details, and these will delve deeper and we’ll gradually learn our family histories and life stories.

Our knowledge will merge.

We will begin planning our lives and schedules around each other. We might begin checking with each other not before we meet, but before we don’t. We’ll begin doing things together more often than apart. When you hear a song you think I’ll like, you’ll send it my way. When I read a funny story in the news, I’ll have to share it with you. We’ll start finishing each other’s sentences, texting at the same time, sharing that knowing look of significance, knowing the same idea or joke hit us at the same time.

Our lives will merge.

We’ll become that sacred we, that conjugation of two worlds.

One day I’ll drop to one knee and ask you to share the rest of your life with me. We’ll get married.

In symbolism, our presences merge.

Then the fun begins. Our very futures will merge.

We’ll have to learn the hard way how to navigate each other’s personal ticks and pet peeves. Will we have the toilet seat down/toilet seat up debate? Toothpaste? Kitchen arrangement? Laundry? Furniture? Bedroom or bathroom? All those stereotypical marital nuances that feed such a rich fodder to late-night sitcoms could become the fodder for argument.

But gradually we’ll sort through it. We’ll learn to make concessions, we’ll work around our differences. We’ll settle into a synchronous harmony.

Gosh I can’t wait for that. I can’t to grow old with you, I can’t wait until the veneer of the unknown strips away and we are incurably comfortable around each other, completely at ease. We’ll begin to know each other and each other’s behaviors in an intimate way. You’ll be able to read my moods and expressions, and I yours. We might be reading or working in the same room. Suddenly each of us has the same idea, and we look up from minutes or even hours of silence with the sudden occurrence of a common and mutual thought — maybe even something as simple and alarming as “Where’s the baby?”

We’re going to become so close that if and when one of us precedes the other in death, it will be like the one has lost half of themselves. That unification is not reversible, not completely.

But you see, I’m already missing half of me. I know I am. I’m sure everyone feels lonely, but sometimes I wonder if everyone who is single feels this lonely, or is this aware of what’s missing. How else could they cope? Maybe I’m just less equipped to handle it. I know for sure that I was not appointed to walk God’s road alone. Yet just as the road is appointed, so must the companion. That should give you some comfort, Darling, that you are appointed and called and summoned. Our rendezvous is inexorable.

I’m loving you until the day I can love you to your face.

Yours always,

June 5, 2012 - Posted by | Anticipation

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