Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Babysitting the Beast

Dear Darling,

Do not awaken love before its time, cautioned Song of Solomon. Of course, no one really knows when the time of love is, but its definition seems self-reflexive — the time of love will be when love’s time arrives.

Well, it’s too late now. Love hasn’t arrived and the beast has. Sure, the goal was to prolong desire’s hibernation…to soothe and pacify and silence it and avoid the torture. I did a good job for the first two decades of my life. I didn’t try to awaken it.

But now it’s awake, and its hunger-pangs groan deeper than any thunder-clap. Now I’m stuck here babysitting a monster. It’s not just any dragon that a knight such as I might challenge; it’s part of me. It is the dragon within. It’s part of who I was created to be, and no matter how hard I try, denying it is denying myself. Maybe that’s what Christ meant about taking up the cross and denying one’s self. But no matter how much the church overlooks or insulates us from sex, the truth is that we were born with a sexual identity, a desire which defines us. Put simply, a part of our nature was created to have sex — to need it, desire it, crave it, pursue it. To exist as you and I do (or in the darker side of my dreams, as only I do) is to live out a paradox every day. Silencing the demand, rebuking the fire against every yearning and instinct.

Only those who hold fast to the end will be saved. And, we are what we feed. I haven’t been unfaithful to you, and partly only because I never trust myself on the matter. But this mind, this foolish, sinful clump of gray matter between my ears takes itself to places it knows it shouldn’t go, and drags me along because it knows we both like it.

I’m clinging to physical purity with a death grip, Darling, but the world in which I live feeds aught but desire. I need your prayers, and your appreciation. Darling…tell me it matters. Please, please tell me it matters. Tell me it’s important to you. Tell me you value this battle and are grateful that I’m fighting it. Tell me it makes you love me more. Flatter me with how relieved and glad it makes you. 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 what I’m fighting for, or why.

Love,
Beren

Advertisements

November 9, 2013 Posted by | Purity | , , , | 3 Comments