The Love That I Shall Never See

“The pleasures of spring have been jawed about so often that I am rather shy of saying anything about the lovely weather that has succeeded to the snow here. Do you know what if feels like when you go out for the first time without an overcoat and feel all the nerves funny up the back of your legs and see the clouds blowing about a really blue sky? At the same I know the spring too well to really like her. She invariably makes you feel lonely & dissatisfied & long for

‘The land where I shall never be
The love that I shall never see.’

You know what I mean?”

~Letter from C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves, February 20, 1917

(The actual lines are

‘The love whom I shall never meet,
The land where I shall never be’

Andrew Lang, History of English Literature, p. 579)


I found this beautiful – so full of that lonely longing, long suffered by my waiting soul. I don’t really believe intellectually that these things will “never be,” for that idea has been ruined for me by a thought of hope. But sometimes it does feel that way; most days, in fact. I feel sometimes I am really just waiting for death, although that thought of course is a jolt. That would be a waste of life, and it re-directs me towards thoughts of what needs doing. I don’t know what I am meant to do or be in the larger scale of life, but I do know that I can do what good I know, as best I can. The rest appears an endless waiting for the sun, shining everywhere, and just out of reach. 








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