“An embrace from him left scratches on my back that sometimes wept blood, yet my brothers and I fought to be the first in his arms when he returned from work each evening."
--Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal, Christopher Moore
Truth is, I miss you. And there are days when missing you seems to take away from everything I have ever liked about myself. I am surprised. Because the waves of summer make me realize that I can miss you without asking anything from you; that I can miss you without plunging myself in existential angst; that I can miss you even if I do not feel blessed, or punished, or loved, or hated . . .
I understand that constantly questioning your reality, may not be the best way to ingratiate myself in your favor. Or maybe that's my selfish perspective in operation--that blessings are bestowed based on a point-reward system. But I am sure, that your silence is the most painful moment in my life so far. And I cannot function, not in the way that would make me, me.
So where are you? And how can you, in your infinite mercy and kindness hide your presence from me? Am I being taught a lesson? Am I being shunned? If so, what can I do about it? Do I wait it out? Do I force your hand? Do I need to plead, cajole, coerce, and connive to get you to notice me?
I miss you, because I'm still here, because I'm still human, because I can't stop believing in you.