Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Who I Need You To Be: Weak

“It ticks just like a Timex
It never lets up on you
Who said life was easy?
The job is never through
It’ll run us ’til we’re ragged
It’ll harden our hearts
And love could use a day of rest
Before we both start falling apart.”
– Keith Urban

Dear Darling,

I need you to be weak.

Does that surprise you? Let me explain.

I don’t mean all the time. I don’t mean the shrinking violet that blanches at the slightest provocation, or the blushing beauty that crumbles at the slightest travail, or faints at the feel of her own pulse. I don’t mean someone that can’t summon grit to cope with the world, or be tough, or open her own pickle jars.

I mean vulnerable.

Don’t misunderstand…I think you should have walls up. It wouldn’t mean anything if you took down your guard so easily and shared the deep and tender feelings of the fragile interior. It has to be earned. And besides, I’m good with walls.

But I need you to be vulnerable. I don’t need you always putting on the poker face and being a stoic to deal with life’s tragedies. I need you to have the excitement and enthusiasm of a little child. I need you to be bright and cheery and encouraging sometimes. And yes, when you are down, I need to see that too. I want to see it. I want to see the heartache, the sadness, the depression. Those emotions are rare and precious, and although they hurt, they hurt in a place deep down inside of us, a place that few emotions actually can reach. I want to earn your trust so completely that you escort me even into those places.

They tell me that a woman just feels down sometimes. She doesn’t want a lecture on why life is good. She just wants her man to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything is going to be okay. See? I’ve been paying attention! I’ve been trying to learn.

Life is all rot, you know that. It’s going to point at something shiny on the ground and then rip the rug out from under us so we fall. Then it comes up and kicks us while we’re down, and throws dust in our eyes. It’s brutal and merciless. It’ll beat us until we’re ragged and breathless. We’ll have to lean on each other, two battered and broken beings trying to make our way like, as the song says, two sparrows in a hurricane.

I will be good at reading you. I’ll know when you’re down. I can’t promise I won’t always have my vision clouded by my own troubles, or be hurt you didn’t rush to soothe mine, but I’ll do my best.

But I won’t lie, sometimes you might have to tell me. Sometimes you might have to completely stop talking until the silence alarms me and I look at you, or you might just have to catch my eye, walk right into my personal body space (do you think such a thing will even exist for us after marriage?) and grab my gaze and say “hold me.”

I will.

Maybe you can teach me how too. Men don’t like to be vulnerable. We don’t like to admit our inabilities or weaknesses. We want to be independent and strong, because the moment we lean on something we’re no longer trusting ourselves. We’re risking. We’re being vulnerable, we’re trusting that something we’re putting our weight on won’t bottom out and leave us falling or hurting. We’re investing, and with it comes that risk of loss or hurt. And then there’s that whole guy image to maintain. But I’m willing to learn…I think.

Is any of this making sense? I want you to be guarded. I won’t mind scaling the walls. But you have to let down your hair for me to climb, and the window has to be open when I get there. It doesn’t have to be all gold and glitter.

I’ll take the sad with the happy, as long as it’s you.

June 19, 2012 - Posted by | Who I Need You To Be

1 Comment »

  1. […] should I dare ask you for a love that rivals the movies? To be vulnerable, to watch over me and encourage me, to make me feel again and lift me out of the depths of […]

    Pingback by Arrogance: The Audacity of Aspiration « Letters to Luthien | August 20, 2012 | Reply

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