God as your Boyfriend

November 18, 2011 § Leave a comment

I remember when it all started. It was back in January when you found the Virgin on your windshield. Well, I thought it looked like a Siamese cat but we could have played that game for hours. You started to pray in the cold. I switched on the heat and you switched it off. I interrupted you because I wanted to be in your head, I wanted to know what you were praying about. Shut up, Daniel. Shut up, shut up, shut up.  You kept muttering that between words of prayer and it started to sound really perverse. My coffee teeth chattered over you, making percussion. I thought it sounded good so I made my teeth click even louder and you slapped my thigh. Then my thigh was warm, which tied me over. Your profession of your love to God is a ten-minute monologue and well, for the love of god, yours for me is a four-finger pat on the knee. He barely even knows you, for Christssake. He doesn’t have to turn you over in the middle of the night when you start snoring, or remember to put two pats of butter on your toast. Yes, I was jealous of God. I turned on the hot air and defrosted the Virgin. Yes, I made her disappear. I felt powerful then, but I’m pretty sure you made me walk to work.

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