Love, Dad

14. Hope

Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I'd been to church. It was strange to me, thinking of it in such strict terms. I was religious, I believed in God sure enough, but I'd never been like my father. I'd never been known to read the bible every morning, or to go to church every Sunday, and yet I was still a man of faith. Yet it had been so long since I'd been to a service—so long that I couldn't remember the last time. And besides that one time, I also hadn't prayed or given any thought to these things in just as long. It made me feel guilty, like I didn't deserve all the good things that were given to me. And there was no shortage, I was blessed.

Maybe it was just that the persona I'd adorned in Los Angeles wasn't spiritual, which would make sense because I'd done nothing to make anyone believe that. Still, even before I'd left home it had been a while. Growing up, it was always dad who sat beside me in the pew, watching me to make sure that I was paying attention and not dozing off. Today it was Levi. He sat there stoically with his eyes fixated on the pastor, intent to listen to whatever it was he was saying. I knew that he was doing no more of a good job than I was when it came to the whole religion thing, but it was his idea to come.

I'd mentioned to him just last week my concerns, how I felt like I was a bad Christian because of my lack of commitment. Next thing I knew he was dragging me out of bed this morning and forcing me into my nice shirt. Of course I remembered, very abruptly, why I didn't like going to church—and it was for more than the fact that they likened our love to sickness. Still, it was worth it to see my lover there, dressed so nicely as the morning sun pierced through the stained glass windows and cast it's rays on his face. Apparently my staring was obvious, as I soon attracted his attention.

He smiled at me, a beautiful expression, and I could see that he was just as bored too. Well, we gave it a shot, that was what mattered, I would just have to explore different avenues to bolster my faith. Without warning he scooted closer to me until there was no space left between us at all. Just when I thought he couldn't take it any farther I felt him slip his hand into mine, locking our fingers together. I didn't fight him, in a way it was nice to imagine a different scenario. One where we were just two people in love going to Sunday service—no judgment, no resentment.

The thought was lovely, and I was filled with an overbearing courage that I hadn't felt before. Slowly I leaned my head until it rested on his shoulder, wondering what he would think about it. He was the one who was out now, after all, uncaring about what anyone might think of him. And he didn't, because after just a short second he lay his head on top of mine too. Immediately my heart pounded, and I could feel the heat of a thousand eyes on us. Of course I was exaggerating a little, because I knew what they were probably thinking. This was our congregation, the church we were raised in, and they knew us, they would just assume our friendship was closer than ever. Probably.

In their minds there would be no possibility that we could be anything more, because we knew better. I pitied them in a way, their small, regressive bubble filled with fear that they let control them. Yet it didn't matter to me, not right now, and I was happy to be there like that with my boyfriend, to be out in the light with him even if we weren't really out. In reality, I was actually the only one still standing in the way, which was incredibly funny if I thought about it. I literally left because I couldn't be the person I wanted to be, and now I was the one stopping myself from becoming just that. Poetic or ironic?

When the service had ended I took my lickings, one by one, as everyone I'd known in my entire life came over to talk to me, ask me how I was doing, how dad was doing. I endured it well, and when we were done I was glad to be out of that place, following Levi to the parking lot and getting into his truck. We only made it about half way home until he pulled off onto a dead end where we could have a little privacy to make out. Okay, maybe it was in poor taste for us to make love right there in the backseat just when we'd come from church, but that didn't stop us.