Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Wide Awake

Dear Darling,

It’s known as the Is-Ought fallacy; confusing what ought to be with what is. And how fitting to recall it to mind. I’m wide awake at two in the morning. I’ve been laying on this air mattress pursuing sleep, and fighting a cloud of thoughts swarming thicker than these southern flies.

I ought to be having fun by the acre and bushel, visiting the destination some call the Happiest Place on Earth. Many would be (and are) jealous of my opportunity to be here, at the behest of my family, and I should be enjoying myself. I’m not. I never want to be so grown-up that I can’t be like a child again, but alas, Pooh Corner no longer thrills this Christopher Robin. It’s all fake, pretend and make-believe. It’s all a facade everyone knows isn’t real, and I’m just too old too accept it anymore. I wouldn’t dare tell my family this, but I crave something real and genuine and meaningful. I want hiking, running, lifting, flying, rafting…not complex video simulation but the real thing.

I should be getting along splendidly with my family. I should feel free to be myself around them, and they should recognize I am fully adult, competent, capable and trustworthy. Instead, there are domestic spats and squabbles, with a maddening parental prejudice towards the younger ones which makes me fear for their upbringing, so different it is from the discipline and correction I was given growing up.

I should be deeper in God’s word right now, and more reliant on Him. I should give up the church shift in order to pursue true spiritual nourishment.

I should be able to find peers my own age, people equally inclusive and reasonably “normal” that can come alongside me and support me just as I can do to them.

I shouldn’t miss so terribly a soul I have never met…my soul shouldn’t be so barren and incomplete, reliant on the very thing withheld from my reach.

I shouldn’t have aspired to be so much, only to become so asynchronous with the world around me because I chose right and they chose wrong. I shouldn’t feel so keenly the failures of others, burning like a fiery anvil of iron down deep in my core, simply because they simultaneously attracted and disappointed me.

I shouldn’t be writing this on my phone in the dark, sitting in the corner of a cheap condominium after two in the morning, and eagerly anticipating my return trip.

I should want children as soon as possible, but instead I want a few years to savor one joyfully cataclysmic change of our fates before we welcome another. But Darling, the years drag on. Life is long and love is bitter…and who can tell when the twain ends of our timelines will bind? In some ways, even in years most still consider tender, I feel I’ve already missed the spring. Would we be risking our heritage by waiting?

Left behind. That is the floor on which so many of my thoughts rest tonight. I was left behind by an older sibling, who shrank rather than grew to fulfill his aspirations. I am left behind by a culture no longer interested in the strong and unwithered things of old, hymns of worship, poems of beauty, virtue of adament. I am left behind by brothers and sisters of the faith, once comrades of arms, who find their place in the world by letting the world find its place in them, casting aside virtue, bartering innocence for the grown-up wings they think they need. I am left behind by those whom I, in turn, left behind, sparking unreasonable jealousy because they found their waiting arms and happiness ahead of me. I’m left behind by a cadre of fellow pupils whose memorizations are textbook even if their application is poor. I’m left behind by a world gone astray, making peace with their regrets, isolating one who bears few such regrets and thus feels…well, left behind.

I should simply be your man, darling, who takes it on the chin and keeps rolling, not miserably tapping out his dismay during wee hours and dark watches. And I promise you, I am and will be resilient. None guess this percolating undertow now, and only in placing these burdens before you, the very entrails and essence of my heart, even the parts of my soul less attractive, do I show my faith in you, my trust that you will try to understand, to take pity on a soul misunderstood by some and poorly understood by most.

I’m much too young and blessed to be this world-weary…but much too old and grounded to lack the basic and common fundamentals of life like peace, love or fellowship.

These things oughtn’t be. But they are.

I love you, my dearest bride. One day, one bright and shimmering day, when skies smile and sunshine falls fair, you will hear those words from my own lips. And I will here them from yours. And we’ll be home.

Until then, my love.


May 14, 2013 - Posted by | Uncategorized

1 Comment »

  1. I have no response except to say that this is beautiful.

    Comment by Robin | May 20, 2013 | Reply

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