Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Trapped

“Where are the heroes
In my time of need
Is my cry not loud enough
Or have they gone all numb?

They just stand and stare
Out of the rain
Thinking but not acting
That they’re not to blame…”
Within Temptation

Dear Darling,

I feel trapped tonight; trapped by loneliness. The road is so long…so long. The horizon is never-ending, and everyone else has gone on ahead. I find myself wanting to retreat inside myself, away from the world. But there’s only so far into that cave you can crawl. You can’t escape your own heart, you can’t flee from something that isn’t there to begin with.

I feel those resurgent feelings of abandonment, frozen outside the universe and wanting to escape back in. And the greatest sting is knowing I’m here because I chose the high road. I followed a higher calling, and now I’m walking a road with terrible drops on either side, a frigid headwind, and no companion with whom to link arms as we go.

I feel like I see too much. Like I’m weighed down by the sin and evil, isolated by virtue.

People are driving me crazy, and I can’t catch a break. One friend, ostensibly a good friend, became engaged just two days past. He did not wait, but she did. He sewed his wild oats, and now he reaps the harvest of virtue with the woman he has always dreamed of being with. His fiancee, incidentally, is a girl who many said would make a suitable match for me, but who was incredibly cold to me when I greeted her at work. This is the same friend who was invited to our mutual friend’s wedding when I was not. Another friend of mine posted photos of his wedding. I was invited, but he lives out of state and it was a silly cheap Star Wars theme anyway. (Sorry love, I don’t see us making our solemn oaths and covenants before Almighty God dressed as Han Solo and Princess Leia.)

Oh yes, and I also learned that a young lady I greatly admired and respected from afar is shacked up with her fiancee. Remind me to tell you that story one day, my dear. The lady I called the Nightingale, the virtuosa who was indeed quite famous.

And then I saw Friend-Zone again, and my heart hits the roof of my chest. She never even glances my direction, and what could I say to her anyway? I am simply perplexed that a door thoroughly shut in my face (slammed, really) still evokes reactions unbidden, and even as I despise these feelings, I welcome them as extrinsic to my own existence, and introducing a new feeling into a stale heart.

Then a complete stranger comes up to me at work and proceeds to vent her entire life’s story to me, her woes and her struggles and her trials. Darling, ordinarily I would look on her tenderly as a wounded soul in need of healing and compassion. Tonight, I could not. I listened for the better part of fifteen minutes, and made excuses to leave. I hugged her, I encouraged her, I wished her well, and I told her where she might go to receive true help, but I am neither counselor nor clergyman. There are many burdens in the world to be sure, but I bear my own, and have not the strength for the burdens of others, especially when I am weary, unwilling and unawares.

I have recently had disputes with family members I love, in which they are thoroughly unwilling to consider their own role in the dispute, nor enter into my own perspective and understand it.

These are the times when grim resignation sets in. I block the friends who aren’t there for me. I feel like telling off everyone I ever gave to who left or ignored me when I needed them. Naturally, this would simply make me the temperamental and bitter old soul who vents his frustration on people who believe they share no blame.

These are the times when all I can do is laugh that laughter of the sad and cynical…the laugh that is borderline madness, because my need is for tears. It’s an uncontrollable bitter reaction to an uncontrollable and bitter life.

Once again, the question of purity comes back to haunt. I think it would be so much easier to wait if everyone else did too. If the world was not replete with those gorging themselves on the feasts of the flesh, if I wasn’t surrounded by those who discard their virtue for pleasure, I wouldn’t feel as lonely or deprived. I wouldn’t feel like I’m the only one. But Darling, I’m not convinced God cares anymore. Look at the way he treats impurity in the Old Testament. Look at the way it’s treated now. Does He really care so much? Look at my “friend”. He is marrying the girl of his dreams, the girl he has spoken of so often about. He despaired of being with her, and yet now, he who slept with multiple women in college, finds religion again and finds his reward in the virtuous and pure woman who waited. I am filled with an envy and a rage, a sense that the pure should remain with the pure, and let those who plunged into the filth of lustful waters find their contentment with their own kind. I am sure this is not an attitude of God, but it is what I feel.

I guess I’m waiting because God said to. But I’m also waiting because I’m leaning on this increasingly frail hope that you’re waiting too…that we find each other unplundered, unspoiled. I think…I think if I were somehow magically able to know about you, and was told my beloved future bride would not wait, I wouldn’t wait either. What a horrible confession, a horrible realization. But there doesn’t seem to be any point. My head is bowed low not in defeat, but in despair of virtue. I know people wait, but I can never find the woman that intersects the things I seek. I really don’t see God getting bent out of shape. He is gracious, and glory to Him for it. But one of my greatest hopes (and fears) is whether or not you waited. If you can’t give me over to tears of joy by looking me in the eye and telling me you loved me enough to wait, then most of my reason (and hope) is destroyed. There is a strange freedom in the steely resignation of “so be it.”  There is invincibility and resolve that comes from killing hope.

But oh Darling, faint visions of joy still linger in the distance. There is hope and hunger for the destiny which has yet to be fulfilled, or illuminated, or even unwrapped.

A face is a key to happiness. A smile can heal. Your face among thousands or millions in the crowd will set my heart to overflowing delight. Just to see you. You will be the one to make my heart careen against my chest wall. We will belong together. Your smile will give me beauty and hope and strength. It will heal me, Darling, it will! And I’ll give back everything you give to me, and heal you, and lift you up.

We are but two worlds on separate orbits, two ingredients held apart by some unseen delay, pensive and poised, waiting for life to begin.

I love you with all of my being. Our separation is God’s will. Let us trust that He will bring us together in His time. Until then, think of me, pray for me and wait for me, my dearest love.

Yours,
Beren

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November 5, 2012 - Posted by | Loneliness, Nights Like These, Purity

1 Comment »

  1. Don’t worry, I’m waiting for you! Don’t give up your faith so easily when faced with trials- instead, strengthen your beliefs & be confident in your choices. I know it’s hard, but don’t give up…we’ll be together soon & it will be worth every minute. Your friend will spend the rest of his life wishing he could give his bride what she will give to him, but you & me baby, we will have no regrets. Not a single one- Just beautiful, unbreakable love. So please, Wait for me, pray for me, & trust me that I am doing the same:)

    Comment by Sweets | November 5, 2012 | Reply


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