Forgive Me, Father

Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.

It’s been ten years since my last confession.

How does this go again?

Do I just- start talking-? Okay.

Well, first of all, I sinned by getting really bad road rage on the way here. I’ve been trying an exercise lately that’s like, instead of swearing at the driver, I’d sigh out the name of the car in a condescending way. So, instead of, “Fuck you!” I’d say, “Ugh, Subaru.”

I’m not sure if it’s been helping, because the hatred is still in my heart. But I am trying, father, I am.

Another thing that happened was that I stole this tiny white elephant off my coworker’s desk. I don’t know why I did it. Actually, I do. I just really liked how it looked. It’s a little squishy white elephant, the size of a small avocado. A stress toy, if you will. It reminded me of what Werner Herzog said to this woman who carried an audio recording of her ex-boyfriend being mauled by bears while his camera had been running with the lens cap still on: “You must never, never listen to this. You must destroy it. For it will be the white elephant in your room all your life.”

Well, now I have a white elephant in my life. And it’s palm-sized.

Father, you must find this really funny. Well, it’s bad, but. Don’t you think I’m a funny guy?

Another thing- well, this is actually bad. But basically I’ve been fucking my ex-girlfriend’s best friend for the past few years.

There’s something about her that I hate and I love. She gives herself to me like she means nothing. It makes me feel bad for her. Like, have some self-worth, girl! She’s at my every beck and call, like a little dog without a home. When I see her, the smile on her face makes me sad. It’s as if there had been nothing good in her life until the moment she laid eyes on me.

Oh, she’s in love with me, I know that, father, I know. And it feels fucking good. But I also feel bad. Or, actually, I feel bad that I don’t feel bad. I don’t feel bad for her, because, well, have I told you about her head game? Phenomenal. I guess I feel a little bad when I think about how much practise she’s probably had. But in general? Nope. Not a single drop of guilt. And I certainly don’t feel bad for my best friend. He doesn’t have to know. It’s already happened, anyway. If I told him, it would actually hurt him, and it’d be totally counterintuitive to the whole “Harm No One” ideology.

Is there even a “Harm No One” ideology in Christianity? Sometimes, I think about how Jesus rode a mule into town and I feel bad for the mule. It never asked to be ridden. It probably feels terrible, being worked all day long, when really all it wants to do is graze in the fields and find a mate and gallop around with a happy little family.

Father, why is love so difficult? I can tell this girl is in love with me, but I can’t find it in my heart to return her feelings. It just doesn’t sit right with me. It would be like eating dead prey.

Father, why is it that it feels so good to chase? To run after something that’s alive, beating, breathing… Father, forgive me for the comparison. I don’t mean to say that women are prey. I just- I just.

The other day I was thinking about Jesus and Satan, and something my Jewish friend said. He said, “We don’t believe Jesus was the Messiah because when the Messiah comes, he will save everyone.”

And I think that makes a lot of sense. Jesus’ power seems to be limited to saving people who believe in him. But what if there was an even stronger Messiah who saved people who didn’t even believe in him? Who could make the most unbelieving of unbelievers believe in him? That’s not to say that I doubt Jesus, or God. I just want everyone to be saved. Even the evil people deserve to be saved, I think. And maybe that’s where my thoughts are skewed.

But I was thinking, if the angels learn to love their demons, and the demons learn to love their angels, that is when there will be peace.

Also, father, I am bipolar.

One time, during my manic episode, or spiritual awakening, whatever you want to call it, the devil overtook my mouth.

The devil said that even he wanted to be saved. And that through me, he will be saved. Because I have the holy spirit within me, as well as the devil. The two are in love. And love is where healing and change begins.

I’m sorry, father. I know that doesn’t make any sense. I know this goes against the doctrine. I know Jesus said, “If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. For it is better to be without a body part than for your whole body to be thrown into the fires of hell,” or something like that. And my right eye are probably these thoughts I’m having. But what if I’m right? But what if we could save everyone? What if I could save everyone?

Father… I think I’m the Messiah.

Is it a sin to think so? But what if God led me to believe this?

You probably think I’m crazy and that I need to go to the hospital. And I’ve been there. But the doctors never saw me for who I was. If they don’t even see me eye-to-eye, how can they help me?

I’m sorry, father. I know this is a lot.

And I’m sorry for all of it. For all my sins. For sins that I don’t even know are sins.

And maybe the greatest sin of all is wanting to save the devil.

Maybe it comes from wanting to salvage the evil part of me. The part of me that steals white elephants and has sex with best-friend’s-ex-girlfriends.

Or maybe it’s simply what it is. If the devil is a real being, not just a metaphor of our evil ways, then I want to save him, too. I want to save everyone.

But I’m ready to renounce that part of me. If you’ll just clean me again.

I feel like a dishrag. Dirtied and wrung out and strung out my whole life.

When will I feel whole again? Is this only the beginning?