A Letter to One's Beloved

Beloved,

If there were a way to explain myself, my heart, my actions, my feelings, and my thoughts as a man—even then I wouldn't find the love that I long to not only give but also receive. As it were, it would be a love that satisfies.

And yet, I lack ready models—least of all ready human, in-the-flesh models to make it down this vocational road that I have decided to go down. Divorce does that even to the most graced souls.

What I do know, my dear, is that life isn't made to remain in questions and in books. Life isn't theory—it's action. And so the Lord has moved me to act here and now.

First, as a man, I cannot help but to apologize with all my heart and soul for the transgressions of my fellow man to you, dear daughter of God. So quickly do we men forget your royal claim to grace and protection. And still we take advantage of a moment. My dear, I am sorry for the pain caused. You are worth it all.

In all things you are worth the dignity and unconditional love and compassion from me and every man through our words, thoughts, and deeds. And so I'll say it again: you are worth it all.

And so the Lord has moved me to act, not out of lust for my inner most desires and hopes for the future, but rather out of a blind hope in love. I am convinced that is how love starts. No, not the emotion—the action. If love is to exist, a chance of failure must also exist. Not an unrequited attraction, that is separate.

Love must take that chance to exist and so not die out. And so love the action is not tied together with love the emotion. And so I must act.

This all is not to say that I am independent of the need of reassuring affection. I am wholly dependent upon that. It's our Achilles' heel, as it were. But I cannot remain affixed to the consolation for I would forget the Giver of the Gift. It is you; it is of God. It is similar for both.

At the same time the Gift is also a burden—a Cross. The beloved may not love in return. What then would be unconditional love? It cannot have strings attached. It cannot be manipulative. It cannot be lust.

And so I do love you. I love you not because it is easy. No, I love you in spite of the difficulties. I love you not because of the ease of the road but because of its resistance. I love you as He calls me to, because you are His daughter, a woman all-deserving of love and protection.

What shall I do with this infant love then? I have tried to bury it. Out of supposed convenience I've buried it. Out of sickness I buried it. Out of fear I buried it. Nothing should be done out of fear. And so I must act.

This is not how I imagined love. But confidence does not equate to love. No, love must be a gift. And this gift is never wasted.

The infancy of love is something I wish not to unwillingly burden you with. I beg for mercy in learning how to fully love in my vocational path. Forgive my words if they cease in elegance.

I wish and pray only for your understanding and your continued witness to hope. No matter its direction from here, the future depends on love.

"Belief and faith are proved by works, not by simply saying that one believes, but by real actions and a HEART burning with love." - St. John Chrysostom