I see them floating in the heavens, strolling hand in hand upon the soft grassy pathways of a New Eden in a New Dispensation.
I see them man and wife and wife and man, hand in hand, cleaved to one another and bound in the flesh but at the heart and through the mind.
Susan: When I was a girl, I always dreamed I’d meet someone. It seemed inevitable. Like my parents had each other and my grandparents and my friends’ parents. I overlooked the many contradictory cases. I guess I felt like I was a someone who would find her someone. But time went on. My relaxed assumption gave way to writhing hopes and doubts.
Amble: I’ve always loved you. But I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know what you looked like. I would make wild guesses.
Susan: Weren’t you ever in love before?
Amble: No. I couldn’t do it. I could only want to collapse upon someone safe and warm and shaped like the rising sun.
Susan: And like a burbling stream?
Amble: Yes, and like a dewdrop dangling about to burst from a downward-bending leaf.
Susan: I love you.
Amble: I love you.
Susan: Why do we love each other?
Amble: Because we fit each other and we know it?
Susan: Because we are shaped to satisfy each other’s needs? But surely there’s other people with similar shapes.
Amble: Because we turned towards each other and so sunk deeper and deeper into one another?
Susan: What is love like this, that makes one shine and glow from the center outward?
Amble: I am scared, scared of failing you, of betraying this gift of love, which no one deserves.
Susan: Me too. What do we do? How do we nurture this magic orb where we are both kept safe within and explode infinitely beyond?
Amble: What is the system I can employ to be what you need, to give you what you need every day over and over forever? I need to be healthy and strong and good for you.
Susan: Tell me why you love me.
Amble: I can’t. I love you because I love you like how I walk on two legs because I’m a person. I love you because your voice, your scent, the nearness of you, everything you say and do is a magic elixir that makes me burst with love and joy and longing. I love you because I believe you exist and I believe you believe I exist.
Susan: I need you. What does that mean? Before I wished for someone, but I didn’t need a husband. Now I’ve met you, and I need you. There must be some confusion, some kind of a mistake.
Amble: Before the searing sore wound winding and writhing through me accepted defeat. It accepted that no one would be able to share space with it, that it would never feel affection, comfort, safety, love. Then I met you and I was so afraid that you wouldn’t let me know you. I didn’t want to disappoint the hope that so rarely dared to show its battered face and that had never before sprung forth with such boundless enthusiasm. Newborns love indiscriminately. As we age, we learn to build walls around our love. We don’t want to either get burned or lose out on a better offer. When I met you every bit of me knew that if you would love me, I could never ask for anything more out of life.
Susan: Where does God fit into all this?
Amble: I don’t know. I imagine God, being infinite and thus without particulars, is always at the back and shining through every particular thing.
Susan: But that’s Godlight you’re talking about. God is more homely than that — God knows a body. If God can know us, how can God be an undifferentiated explosion of joyful, gentle, all-accepting & -uplifting energy? If God thinks and feels, then God must have some specific qualities.
Amble: Yeah, I dunno. But, Susan, what am I to do? I can’t stand the thought of losing you and this love we share. I hurt so much from wishing I could know you better. I feel pulled towards you like towards a black hole. I need to know you better and better and better and always better; to love you better and better and better and always better. It’s infinite, this passion. How do lovers ever laugh? Or is it that I’m not yet able to believe you really love me?
Susan: Take me home. Let our hearts/minds/bodies show one another how we feel. Then our souls will draw near, soul to soul, and everything we each of us ever was or will be — our ineffable essences will smile eye-in-eye.
Amble: OK, sure. Let’s go home.
Author: oh you know
Editor: uh huh