Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Let’s Talk About the Honeymoon

“What raging fire shall flood the soul!
What rich desire unlocks its door;
What sweet seduction lies before us!
When will the blood begin to race 
The sleeping bud burst into bloom 
When will the flames at last consume us?”

-Andrew Lloyd Webber

Dear Darling,

What comes to your mind when you think about your honeymoon? Where do you want to go, what images fill your head?

I had a friend tell me once, don’t go anywhere exciting and fun! You might wind up not even leaving the hotel room.

Tell me…are you the sort of woman that yearns for the day of consummation, when you will take your husband into your arms and make him your own? Are you desperately aching to retire the shackles of restraint and self-discipline and begin soaring? Do you ever have times when you cannot wait to make love, early, often and with great vigor?

My fiery darling, if that describes you, then…I’m your man.

I don’t think I’ve ever been as aware of sexuality as I am now. Of how it pervades society…of how it motivates and drives people. Of how it drives me. It’s the engine that keeps on revving in the motor car that must stay parked. It’s that sacred fire, sequestered deep inside, radiating endless heat to every pore of my body. It’s the unbidden urges, the ravenous craving for a warm body to embrace. It’s a beast, a raging, voraciously hungry animal. I have to crack a whip to bring it into line. That’s good for you, if making love early and often is something you relish. But it’s not good for me. Not now. I love that beast. It’s part of me. It IS me. But it can’t make the rules. I must be the master, force him back into the cage, because he doesn’t belong outside of it until the due time.

To be honest, sometimes it’s hard to remember that due time will ever come. It’s hard to have faith that one day I’ll go running down to that cage, smash the lock and fling open the door. He’ll be set free at last. I’ll be free. We’ll be free. And then everything forbidden and taboo will become not just permissible but mandatory! We’ll be free, free to burn in the white-hot inferno of love, to dance in the blaze of our primal, pure pent-up passion for each other. I’m zealous that we should share this only with each other; you know this. I desperately hope you will be speechlessly proud of me for saying no when my body demanded otherwise, and make me speechlessly proud of you for waiting. And yet, I hope that you will expect no lesser standard.

And what will that look like, Darling? Can you imagine? Can either of us even begin to envision the strain and cravings building up to the days before our wedding? (By the way, should we have a long engagement or a short one?) Two weeks to go? One week? What about that last night, each of us going to bed alone, sending some last goodnight texts and thinking “last night alone, forever”? I don’t know if I’ll even sleep. Not one wink. But that’s okay…because I doubt either of us will the night which follows.

When morning arrives, I have a hunch I’ll absolutely fly out of bed. I might flit around the room before hovering downstairs for breakfast. Maybe you’ll have beat me to awakening and will have sent me a good-morning text. (But no, the old tradition is not to see the bride before the wedding. I think we must agree not even to communicate!)

Imagine it: thoughts and butterflies and nerves all whirling and flashing about in dizzying haste, life slowing down and speeding up at the same time, heart racing as the ceremony commences. As you walk down the aisle all in white. Faces will be looking, music will be playing. I’m sure somewhere in the back of my mind, angels will be singing. We’ll say our I-do’s. There’ll be a kiss. We’ll greet the guests, eat the food, dance the dances. The sun will set. The hour to depart will draw nigh. We’ll hop into our JUST MARRIED car and take off.

But where?

Well Darling, of course you’ll have a say in that. But I’ve got Plans. Ohhhh yes, do I have plans!

I don’t think either of us will want to travel a great distance that night. As much as I’d love to take you through an airport security checkpoint with your gown on, show you off, let the entire airplane applaud us, I don’t think either of us will have that energy. So let’s stop at a hotel for the night and save the travel for the next day.

Can you imagine checking in at the front desk, the clerk giving us a wry smile with our room keys, and we two trying to keep poker faces as we head up in the elevator, stealing kisses the whole way? Hmm. I think I just decided we should get a private lodge or house somewhere rather than a hotel room. Yep. Definitely. One of those chalets in Gatlinburg, I should think. First thing inside the door, I’d say it would be time for some record-breaking kisses.

Will we want food? I think my stomach will just grin, give me the thumbs-up and say “to heck with dinner.”

Knowing me, I think I’ll be terrified it’s a dream and I might wake up. I might need pinching. (Maybe you’ll oblige me.) I think I’ll have that feeling of my gut dropping out, the gasping, gaping “this is finally for real.”

I suppose we’ll both need to shower?

We’ll both be nervous as anything. But I want you to know something right now. I may be a virgin’s virgin, but I’m not uninformed. I’ve done a little homework. I know the first time is often painful for women, and that men have a reputation for giving reign to instinct, turning into hormone-fused time-bombs that ignite too early and leave their partner disappointed. I want to be among the first men who prioritized their wives before themselves…one of the few guys who anticipated the problem and averted it. I want to go slow and let us both savor the moment.

“At the door of every bridal bedchamber, an angel stands, smiling, with a finger to his lips.”

Ah, and the morning after! If we even sleep at all, to wake up in each other’s arms, as the sun spills on the sheets and the birds sing, and we both arise, forever changed.

But what about that travel I mentioned? Darling, how does a private island sound?

How about an abandoned beach house, miles of uninhabited beachline and open ocean sound? We can dance like no one is looking, explore our temporary tropical paradise (and each other) together, and make love on the beach as the sun sets. We can go swimming in the ocean as the moonlight dances off the water, build fires on the beach, kiss each other madly as the tropic rains thunder down, watch the sun rise, go boating in the open ocean.

We will give each other wholly and completely to ourselves. We can share our secrets far from civilization where no one can hear. We’ll share our innermost thoughts. I’ll haul out the chest of letters that I’ve been saving for you, years of them, for us to go through.

It will be a honeymoon of great renown. We’ll remember it for years. You’ll be breathless to tell about it, your friends will be amazed.

I hope this indicates the kind of life I hope to build with you. I hope we’ll have the best relationship we can’t ever talk about. I hope you’re as hungry and eager as I am. I hope we’ll turn each other on effortlessly…that you’ll read the smolder in my eyes, and dare me with come-hither looks, even years later.

Let’s never allow the spark to die.

Now of course, all these plans may unravel. They say never to expect the perfect wedding day because nothing is ever perfect. The cake could be ruined, it might rain, the candles might set the drapes on fire, the dog could wet on your dress. The world could be tumultuous, the flight may be delayed, there might be war. One of us could be sick, or we could both wind up a little awkward, annoyed and unfulfilled on our wedding night. We won’t let the possibility of failure prevent us from striving for success.

And to think! These red-lettered days may only lie nestled among the next year or two of our lives!

I could go further. I think my meager gift of words might just be enough to arouse your desire and your passion for your husband like never before. But a knight and gentleman would not broadcast such things publicly. To do so would be unwise, imprudent and unkind. Discretion bids us close the lid on this box of wonders and speak no more of it until the due time. Love must not be awakened prematurely.

But oh darling….what a lovely way to burn.

-Beren

October 14, 2012 - Posted by | Anticipation, Our Timeline, Our Wedding, Purity, Things Other Guys Won't Do

5 Comments »

  1. […] want our wedding to be awesome. I want our honeymoon to amaze. I want our first year together to be fantastic. I want joyous holidays and parties and […]

    Pingback by Why Not A Great Love? « Letters to Luthien | November 2, 2012 | Reply

  2. […] say most don’t get it right the first time. I plan on trying. Lack of experience doesn’t mean lack of knowledge; I know to go slow. But ultimately, I […]

    Pingback by Valentine’s Day Special: Imagine the Fire « Letters to Luthien | February 15, 2013 | Reply

  3. […] glad you are. Tell me resistance has made a difference. Tell me you’re looking forward to the other side, where we can be free. Please. Without that, it’s going to be that much harder to remember […]

    Pingback by Babysitting the Beast « Letters to Luthien | November 9, 2013 | Reply

  4. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve snagged the concept of this post for my blog. I’ve linked back to this post in my entry, so you most certainly get credit. If you’d rather I didn’t link back to you, I will accommodate.

    Comment by An Unfinished Lady | November 20, 2013 | Reply

    • You are certainly welcome to borrow the concepts and/or link back!

      Comment by BerenEstel | November 21, 2013 | Reply


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