Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Our Sundays

“Oh surrender in much sweeter
When we both let it go
Let the water wash our bodies clean
And love wash our souls
Pray that it’s raining on Sunday
Stormin’ like crazy
We’ll hide under the covers all afternoon
Baby whatever comes Monday
Can take care of itself
‘Cause we got better things that we could do
When it’s raining on Sunday.”

– Keith Urban

Dear Darling,

Today’s lazy Sunday afternoon had all the right ingredients. There was heavy, steady rain and a football game. I love rain, and it was the perfect sleepy Sunday afternoon. (I’m not overly fond of sports, but it’s fine to watch a game now and again isn’t it?)

It doesn’t matter; I fell asleep during it, I had to work, and of course, you weren’t there.

So as always, I headed off to work, through the rain, thinking of the ways our lives will change once we’re together and composing this letter in my mind on the ride home.

I keep coming back to this one idea: This should be our time. These lazy afternoons should be ours, to stay inside, talk, laugh, get even better acquainted, take lazy naps. cuddle on the couch, have staring contests. We should be able to huddle under a blanket, watch an old black and white movie, sit on the porch sipping tea and watching it rain. (I don’t like tea, but you get the idea.) We could go for a walk in the rain and get drenched, or stay inside and go through the Sunday newspaper, checking for coupons and price matches.

I feel needy right now, Darling. I don’t want to, but I do. I need you desperately. Not needy as in, “gee I wish there was a girl here to do things for me” but needy as in, that “can’t think about anything but finding you so we can plan our wedding” kind of needy…as in, “everyone roll their eyes because he just made another bitter singles joke about why he’s still single when THAT guy is married.” Honestly, I expect you to be needy too; I’ll be disappointed if you aren’t, because then I’d feel weak and silly, and I’d feel this macho need to button everything back up inside so you won’t see how weak I am.

I need someone to identify with me, because very often I feel like I’m alone in a crowded room — any crowded room. In the world, experience seasons and matures. There are those less mature than you, peers who are roughly your equals, and those more wise than you. Ideally, you find a cross-section of all three with whom to spend time. Yet it seems it’s very hard to find the wise ones, or the peers. Instead, I find so many who are new to the faith, or at least newer. I want to find people better than me. Mentors, people more advanced, people who can teach me. And I simply can’t find them. Does that mean I’m arrogant? “Stop looking to be served and start serving?” is the implication. “Brave little coal, seek not to be warmed, but rather share your heat with the others, even if your own light is dimmed.”

No dear, I need to find others who identify with what it is to be me. I’m tired of being the one always expected to give! There are unique challenges to the lives God has given me, both humble and great, and just because some of them are great is no reason why I should not seek someone who can understand me and not judge, condemn or question. That’s one reason why I need you to be pure. You’ll know what it’s like to face the challenges I do. You won’t hear arrogance if I lament that I feel like the last of the strong, or if I vent my frustration and hurt and anger about people who don’t wait.

I also need you to be proud of me. Oh please, please be the kind of woman who can look at me in my moments of doubt and say “I believe in you”  with shining eyes! Show me I’m special to you. Show me I mean something. It’s going to mean so much to me.

You see, because of the various different experiences I’ve had, I feel comfortable in facing down a lot of situations. I’m accustomed to being the one that takes initiative and does something useful while everyone else just stands around.  With the training and experiences I’ve had, I’ll be the first to admit it’s been built up to a rare degree; people think I’ve got this enormous ego, this alpha complex; “No you don’t understand, how is it that I wound up being this big smart perfect guy that all these girls hit up or make eyes at?” I felt like a heel for having to be only cordial with a young lady who is clearly interested, for whom I feel no interest whatsoever. I was preparing for you Darling, not them. It isn’t worth much to me by itself, and I was never trying to impress a bunch of people. It’s a genuine frustration to be the guy everyone thinks is so cool or amazing or smart or tall and handsome and accomplished. I try to keep it in check, balance it out with humility. I’ll dumb down my opinion if someone asks, because I don’t want to tell someone how much time I’ve spent studying a political, scientific or philosophical issue. I’ll keep silent even if I know the answer, because I don’t wish to presume my knowledge on someone else.  But sometimes, I’ll know when to lead, I’ll know when to step up and say look, I’m your guy, here’s what we need to do, I know how to do this, let’s tackle it together. Sometimes recognizing your own competencies sounds boastful, even if you’re not trumpeting them.

Truth be told, that ego of mine may give a good showing on the outside, but it’s actually kind of frail. I can’t be the one to remind myself I matter…I won’t believe myself. I need you to do that. I promise I’ll never let you forget how much you matter to me.

I know I’ve said this before, but I persistently find myself just wanting someone to talk to. It’s a simple need; just someone to call to unwind, unburden, decompress, debrief, and in turn, listen to someone else do the same. It’s strongest when I get off work. Sometimes I’ll just text distant friends because I want someone to talk to. Because I also care how they are, and because I recognize friendships are give and take, I always lead by asking how they are, how their day was, what they’re up to. Then I get frustrated because they answer and don’t ask about me, or don’t text back.

One or two have learned. (There I go again, how arrogant to “teach” someone to care!) Now they actually text ME at random intervals in a day or week. But they never ask after me very deeply.

I suppose I’m not making much sense to you. The things I write here are in defense or response to a day’s worth of musing over interactions, failures and the comments of friends and family.

I hope wherever you are, Darling, you found time to walk in the rain tonight. That way, at least, the raindrops can do what I can’t…caress your cheek and make you feel happier.

Yours truly,
Beren

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September 3, 2012 - Posted by | Loneliness, Nights Like These, Sundry Thoughts, Who I Need You To Be

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