A Letter From an Orange Lady

Why is it hard for me to imagine marrying you? My mind is wildly imaginative in other ways. I can easily picture people naked and laugh about it, or envision random couples having sex as they walk by, even imagining their future children and grandchildren. I immerse myself in their emotions, their quiet despair, their flickering hope. I might be wrong, but I can still imagine. Some things aren't hard to guess , responses are as simple as sad or happy, peace or chaos. People say, "There are no black and white answers," but moments themselves can't be plural.

Yet when it comes to you, the simplest thing becomes the hardest. I can't imagine you as the father of my children.

Sometimes, I wish there were no families to meet, no approvals to seek, no weddings, just living, endlessly, as we are. If some miracle could free me from tradition, I wouldn't hate it. Don't get me wrong , family is the good part of the world, and I'm grateful for mine. But I resent the awkward judgments about who I marry, and I know it would go both ways.

Even as I talk about meeting families, I still can't picture you as my husband. From what I've seen, marriage isn't much fun. Around me, unhappy marriages outnumber happy ones. It feels obligatory, full of ungratefulness.

Maybe I don't want to ruin the beauty of now by imagining this uncertain future. I might die tomorrow, why waste the present on something so joyless? But that's just an excuse. Deep down, I know marriage can be beautiful. A man, children, unconditional love, it's the most cherished thing. Yet I still can't see you there.

Do I need to imagine you to marry you? No.

I believe in God, though I'm not religious. Which God? I don't know. Can we even define God? I've felt His presence, maybe that's enough for now. Why bring God into this?

Oh, right…to remind myself that if God wills it, I don't have to imagine or force anything into being. I want to be a believer, even if my anxiety fights it. Spirituality is a process, and wanting it is the first step.

Once, I tried to force myself into this marriage idea. I wanted it to work so badly, but it collapsed before it even began. Was it love, or just an escape from my struggles? I'm not sure. I'm unsure about almost everything, yet my mind won't stop circling these questions. Is this the sign of disbelief?

I still want to believe in God, in love. I want to experience it purely, stripped of financial stress, insecurity, fear, tradition, religion, pregnancy, children, jealousy, or expectations. Just you and me, in heaven, making love, resting in joy.

I started talking about marriage but am I even in love first? Maybe I love you so much that I can't imagine you as my husband. Maybe I love you so deeply that I refuse to waste the now on an uncertain future.

Or maybe maybe maybe… just maybe… I love you, and that's why I can't imagine marrying you.