I once dated a Christian.
He told me to believe.
To believe in God
To accept him as my lord
To speak to him when I feel the blues
To let him be my saviour.
because he wants to be with me
In heaven when I die.

He couldn’t bear the idea
of demons sticking a
pitchfork into my hips and playing my ribcages
like a xylophone in Hell.

He couldn’t bear the idea
of not holding my hand in Heaven.

He told me at times of need,
when he couldn’t,
God can.

I told him “We need to talk.”
After that talk,we parted.
We parted like how his lips would when he said “Amen”.
We parted
because I couldn’t understand something he loves.
because I couldn’t feel God.
because I couldn’t believe in God.
because I couldn’t fathom the idea of Hell and Heaven.
because I couldn’t bear the idea of telling him we will
dive into an infinite hole of darkness when we die.
because I couln’t understand him.
because I couldn’t reach out and trace his collarbones
the same way I did after he told me to believe in God.
because I feel more lonely with him than I ever was alone.

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Aside

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