Letters to Luthien

Letters to My Future Bride

Patiently Pacing

Dear Darling,

I believe everyone processes and reacts to events and emotions on different levels. There is a primary response,  that which is reflexive and impulsive, emotionally autonomic if you will. (Don’t be offended my dear, but in my experience, it is on this level that the female of the human race typically dwells.) There is a secondary level of response, that of analysis and reasoning, a more complex process of thinking and feeling and responding. However, it occurred to me today that my level of response seems to take place at a tertiary level, a blend of observing and reacting, but to the secondary level of response, and its peculiarities. In other words, “I seem to be feeling upset. How queer.” An analysis of the analysis.

So for example, after having worked a shift today as a favor to a friend, I get some take-home Mexican food (it’s not often I eat out, much less drive thru or order pizza) and make some notes for a radio appearance tomorrow. Ultimately, tonight I found myself pacing back and forth, feeling squirrely and restless; incomplete. It’s as if I had cabin fever, which of course isn’t the case. I like having the house to myself, but I do tend to go a bit nonlinear without human company.

This built-up of kinetic sentiment comes from frustrated analysis of how a day’s events impact me. It’s from missing the companionship I enjoyed over the summer. It’s from reading that another friend, with whom I once shared the same trajectory of life, is now expecting a baby. It’s from missing you. It’s from wishing things were different. In short, it’s from all the reasons that play into my everyday life. Engagements and pregnancies are commonplace these days, and while I’ll never get used to missing you, the sensation isn’t foreign.

So it seems in this tertiary process of observing the observation of the response, sometimes it takes a while, and sometimes it builds up. Being fairly adaptable to circumstances doesn’t help. (Heaven forbid either of my parents to be called home to be with the Lord, I know I would be too consumed with the responsibilities necessary to grieve.)

Just one more piece in the puzzle that we’re both trying to solve.

Yes, I’ll be on the radio again tomorrow. Of course, I can’t tell you where. It’s a local station, only for an hour. The host and I have formed a distant, amicable acquaintanceship. I didn’t expect the invitation, but it’s an excellent way to close out the old year.

God keeps creating opportunities for us to trust Him, and He’s creating another one for me now. In less than a fortnight, your Beren will be homeless. I’ve not yet found new living arrangements. (Rather than rooming off of a cottage, I’d be charmed to find a castle in need of a guard or two.) I suppose I should be worried about it. But I’m not. Our Lord has always looked after me; He won’t stop now.

And yes, I miss you still tonight, Darling. That old familiar desire came back, the desire to pick up the phone and call anyone who wanted to catch up. To scroll through a list of thoughts and interests strewn across a Facebook profile. (I use mine too much, and will try to scale back in this coming year.) I know it’s not your fault you aren’t here for me. But the end result is the same, so it’s hard. I don’t have any sensational New Years plans. If you were here, I would find us both a dance to attend, something formal and special and wonderful to ring in the new year…with kisses withheld until midnight, the strike of which would be rung in with plentiful kissing and embracing — in token of the hope we both share for the new year.

Hold on tight, my dear. I have a good feeling about this year.

Until then, you might just find me patiently pacing across the hands of a clock as it counts down the hours…the waning of the year, of my time in this house, and the time remaining until our meeting.

I will be patient forever if necessary.

Love,
Beren

December 31, 2013 - Posted by | About Me, Holidays, Loneliness | , , , , , ,

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: