And when the surface of the water closes over your head God is there to lift you up-
Eyes closed, head down in the first bench I vehemently shake my head.
He's there. I promise you.
I shake it again.
The proof is sitting in front of me. Sam's voice gets louder and I sneak a look and sure enough, yes, he's standing right in front of us.
Your doubt is obvious and yet he remains. Proof of his love for you, that you won't be abandoned.
It was part of a series I have heard a few times before, Sam's recycled Two at the table, Two on the walk sermons, that he adapted from an earlier sermon by Jake that he wrote years and years ago.
It was bullshit then, it's bullshit now.
And they both know it. But I don't make any further outward attempts to debate with Sam. I can yell at Jake but it just goes into the wind now and I just want to get home, maybe make a cup of tea and avoid the internet where no one will shut the fuck up about Game of Thrones and I have fatigue from that already.
I do. Sorry. It's just a television show. I'm all caught up and I had to laugh at the worst, most pivotal and destructive scene in the previous episode because it was something I would do. Seriously. Burn it all down to punish one person because sometimes you're driven that way. Sometimes your emotions make the decisions and you're just along for the ride. My life is a scorched earth campaign and yet even in a fire-ravaged, blackened existence, eventually life grows back, beginning with a few bits of green poking through the ruin and before you know it everything looks the same as before.
Sam pulls me in close. Why you gotta ride my ass in public? He laughs softly, putting on a hard New York accent. It's an inside joke and I return the next line as always to make him feel better and show him I'm not angry with him, nor he with me.
Someone has to, cause clearly you ain't gettin' any.
He laughs and kisses my cheek and lets me go to shake Lochlan's hand. Lochlan who is dishevelled and tired and doesn't want to be here but brought me because I did.
And we are home now. Sam will be home soon and then I will reheat some pancakes for him too. And bacon if Ben left any. Then I'm going to sit outside and draw by the pool maybe, or just sleep in the shade. I'm not feeling well again suddenly. I don't know why. I think anxiety manifests itself inside me as a low-grade endless flu and I hate it.
I get a text.
Okay, new plan is to head upstairs at one and crawl in with Caleb, who didn't go to church but has offered nap space (He's there. I promise you.). I love it when he smells like sleep and clean sheets and soap. See you tomorrow.
Eyes closed, head down in the first bench I vehemently shake my head.
He's there. I promise you.
I shake it again.
The proof is sitting in front of me. Sam's voice gets louder and I sneak a look and sure enough, yes, he's standing right in front of us.
Your doubt is obvious and yet he remains. Proof of his love for you, that you won't be abandoned.
It was part of a series I have heard a few times before, Sam's recycled Two at the table, Two on the walk sermons, that he adapted from an earlier sermon by Jake that he wrote years and years ago.
It was bullshit then, it's bullshit now.
And they both know it. But I don't make any further outward attempts to debate with Sam. I can yell at Jake but it just goes into the wind now and I just want to get home, maybe make a cup of tea and avoid the internet where no one will shut the fuck up about Game of Thrones and I have fatigue from that already.
I do. Sorry. It's just a television show. I'm all caught up and I had to laugh at the worst, most pivotal and destructive scene in the previous episode because it was something I would do. Seriously. Burn it all down to punish one person because sometimes you're driven that way. Sometimes your emotions make the decisions and you're just along for the ride. My life is a scorched earth campaign and yet even in a fire-ravaged, blackened existence, eventually life grows back, beginning with a few bits of green poking through the ruin and before you know it everything looks the same as before.
Sam pulls me in close. Why you gotta ride my ass in public? He laughs softly, putting on a hard New York accent. It's an inside joke and I return the next line as always to make him feel better and show him I'm not angry with him, nor he with me.
Someone has to, cause clearly you ain't gettin' any.
He laughs and kisses my cheek and lets me go to shake Lochlan's hand. Lochlan who is dishevelled and tired and doesn't want to be here but brought me because I did.
And we are home now. Sam will be home soon and then I will reheat some pancakes for him too. And bacon if Ben left any. Then I'm going to sit outside and draw by the pool maybe, or just sleep in the shade. I'm not feeling well again suddenly. I don't know why. I think anxiety manifests itself inside me as a low-grade endless flu and I hate it.
I get a text.
Okay, new plan is to head upstairs at one and crawl in with Caleb, who didn't go to church but has offered nap space (He's there. I promise you.). I love it when he smells like sleep and clean sheets and soap. See you tomorrow.