Spookychild’s writings

Since I was a small child, I have believed in God. I remember praying as a child, wide-eyed, looking out the window at a lightning storm, talking to God like he was my father. I never had a father. My father divorced my mother when she got pregnant and allowed her lawyer to give him no visitation. I grew up without cards or presents, or phone calls. My father provided zero contact. He may as well have been dead. But he was not. That is what hurt the most. And my mother never provided a father figure.

But this put me in a unique position. Since I had no earthly father, no father figures, no men of any kind in my life, I could be adopted by God. I spoke to him from an immature age as I would have spoken to my father if I had one. It was not formal; it was not complicated. It was simple.

“Hello God,” I said, blinking back the tears. “I am sorry I have not spoken to you recently. I have been busy with work.” I paused to wipe away some of the tears. “But you know that.” I laughed softly. “You know what I am planning to do.” I paused again, to wipe away tears. “I am sorry I am not stronger. I am sorry I do not have the strength to carry on alone. I am so tired. Forgive me.” I paused again. I was closing my eyes and trying to calm the tears pouring off my face.

I closed my eyes, listening to the wind, birds, and the distant traffic noises. If only I could be a bird or a tree. If only I could live on the hill and never have to talk to another living soul again. I would also take that trade, to be any animal or any plant, to cease to be human. I would become anything other than myself in a heartbeat.

I opened my eyes to look upward again. “God, I will not bother you with why. You already know why. You already know the way I feel. I know it is pointless to ask again, but please, please send a miracle. I know you can. I just hate to bother you. I know you are busy.” I closed my eyes again, as the tears were blinding me. I listened again as the wind dropped off. Now I could hear the traffic noise floating up to my ears from the streets below. The noise of the world I would never belong to. People were doing things and living their lives in a way I never could.

It hurt so badly to wonder why I had been born the way I am. It broke into my mind and the dead center of my chest. Living and feeling like everyone else around you would be simply fine without you, that was me. To feel like everyone knew what they were doing and had someone to hold onto when things got bad. Instead I only had myself to rely on. I was alone, completely, and absolutely. I would never know what it would have been like to go to high school, to go to prom, to have a birthday party to have people who brought me presents or other surprises. It was like being out in the snow, watching a happy family inside a house gathered around a Christmas tree. Each one belonged and was provided for by the others. I would never be part of that group. I would always be the one on the outside in the cold.