On the Bride & Groom

Magic Light (Photo by Enuma Okoro)

“I am not in love with the Church.”

I text it out and lay the phone quiet on my desk. The room fills with the late afternoon sun flood that always reminds me of magic. Nothing so luminous and revealing can be real. The dog lies lazy on the ragged sofa, long collie nose hanging over the edge. Nothing happens, now that I have confessed. I sigh heavy out of my desk chair, grab the paperback and plod three feet to push the dog over for a square of the couch. What happens now? I stare blankly at the words on the page in front of me. It is a short story about a couple telling each other their shameful secrets every night in the darkness. Sadness wells slowly in me like rising water. I turn the book down and watch the hour stretch into evening and the magic light begin to fade.

The phone rings and I see his name glow. He has gotten my text. I hesitate before picking it up.

“Hi.” I say.

“Hey, how are you?” He has felt the weight in such few words.

“I’m fine. I…” the rising water has reached my throat. I choke back, surprised and silent.

He is patient on the line.

I am weeping.

And whispering, “I am failing. I do not love. This bride, I am not in love.”

I weep till the magic light is all gone.

He is patient on the line.

“Why do you think that?” He says it quiet. There is no judgment.

“Because it is true.” There is silence.

“But….” I try to continue. The rising water is flooding.

“But what?”

“But, I love the Groom. And I have to inch my way back to his bride. By habit if not with butterflies.”

“Are you praying?” He says.

“Yes. Silently. On the yoga mat. With cups of tea. In stillness.”

“And what does God say? I know God speaks to you.”

“The Groom. He says, ‘Praise me.’ He says, ‘There is no darkness in me. I am luminous light.’ He says, ‘Praise me.’” I tell my friend this.

“It is okay to not be in love right now.” He speaks quiet. Firm. I receive his grace.

The magic light has gone. But there is still a beauty in the coming of night. So many shades of light. So many shades of beauty. My eyes learn to catch the nuances when I see with intention.

My friend, on the other line, with his quiet questions, with his patience, with his presence with me just where I am. I speak of unfaithfulness and he listens. I remember the Bride has faces.

“I love you.” I say.

 

- Enuma