Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Weathering the Storm

Dear Darling,

Why is it I always arrive to the starting line of a long week and feel more tired than at its end? I ask that question right up until I recount all the things I’ve done this weekend. Then I know why.

Ah, why is it I’m so weak these days? Again I tell you, if you were here now, you’d not have to work hard to win my interest. Show sympathy. Care. Give me a little strength. A little bit would go a long way, and pity the poor people who don’t realize how great a small deed would seem. But no, they have their own storms to weather.

I got that third job. I just thought you’d like to know. It’s nice to have the freedom to make those decisions, but believe me, if we were together, you and I would talk about it long before. As it is, it’s just the same job in a different department. And yes, it’s in addition to my work now. So that’s three jobs, freelance writing and school. (Did you know, throwing yourself at your life is an excellent mechanism to cope and escape loneliness?)

I’m having a hard time caring about tomorrow’s exam too. 

I think I’ve officially made the transition to Christmas music. I turned it on the other night while working. The season goes by so fast now, I’ve no objections to extending it out a little — but only to mid-November. None of this November 1st business.

I think this winter will be dark and cold…if we’re lucky. I believe I’ve made clear my penchant for adverse weather of most sorts, with the expected caveat that no lives are lost in the doing. I love a good storm. We were expecting them today, but I only ever saw an afternoon of gusty rain showers. It’s always nice when the weather obliges your mood, and there’s nothing like standing outside in the dark and reveling in a great wind, letting the rain pelt my face. It was also great napping weather. Perhaps it would take a few months before all we could do was just nap together.

There are other storms on the horizon. There are many who say very difficult times are in store for this country. I agree with them. You may think me crazy, but if we accept that someone will not always be there to look after us, there is a need to store supplies and prepare.

I really need to leave that megachurch and set out to find a true fellowship of believers. Though they fed me twice today, and there are now so many people I know well, and who think highly of me, they don’t feed me spiritually. I’m weakening and malnourished in a church which caters to eyes accustomed to darkness. Although, tonight I saw a young man and woman standing off in a corner, with their arms around each other — praying. They retreated to solitude to pray together! It was a blessing to behold. Would you like to come along and wrap your arms around me to pray? Do you have any idea how startling, discomforting and refreshing that would be, all at once? While you’re at it, would you like to witness my malnourished state, give me a gently disapproving look, and drag me off to a real church? Sometimes the person we need rescuing most from is ourselves.

The neighbor drove up today to drop off their son. It’s painfully obvious it’s another one of those “weekend share” arrangements. How can people traumatize children like this? In the darkest and remotest of worst-case scenarios that you and I awoke to find we were not what either of us considered a “suitable fit” for each other (which would reflect poorly on our selection procedures) it would not matter, because marriage is a vow we made to each other, not a promise contingent on our feelings. If I decided some day that I did not love you by feeling, I would love you by choice…a conscious everyday decision to treat you with love. A promise is a promise.

You think you could carry me tonight if I asked you, my dear? During the race I ran, I felt like quitting many times. My feet constantly told me they couldn’t take the abuse. It becomes a mental exercise, to master limb and bone and trudge on. 

Here is a song of beauty and weariness for you to listen to while you’re waiting, my dear. Pardon tonight’s frank honesty. 

Love,
Beren

November 18, 2013 - Posted by | Loneliness | , ,

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