things I talk about with God

God and I, we have this love-hate relationship that I hate to describe, but we talk. At least I talk. I know it’s a one-way street thing but I do believe He listens – His actions (or inactions) are not an indicator. But I told Him stuff sometimes. Stuff that are not secrets but they are somehow unsaid.. for a particular fear that I have yet to understand

I am afraid of losing you, to be honest. Alas, if we parted ways, do know that I wish happiness to be yours – even if it means without me. So if I tell you to go on and be happy, PLEASE BE HAPPY. If You somehow think that we cannot be together, make it as painless as possible for both of us. To wish this only for me is a selfish request, so spare us the unnecessary heartache and execute Your plan.

I feel entitled sometimes, but I am wiling to pick up the 80% and strengthen myself to keep this relationship together. Heck, I’d even give 110%, even if it means I get an odd 20% in return. Love is not about keeping tabs. I don’t even have tabs. So God, I am not doubting You but I put in quite an immense effort. Please tip me in some favour, will You?

I do believe what I feel is teaching me something. I do. It got me out of my usual thinking zone; it makes me sad sometimes; it makes me sick too – but I am learning through this. If You wanna prematurely end the class, at least grant me a distinction, yeah?

God, I hate how You mess up stuff in my life sometimes but I know things happen for a reason, even if it doesn’t involve me, even if it means my life would really suck because of Your plan. Just keep my loved ones safe. Surely that’s not big of a request to ask for.

I also hate how You put me in a position that would jeopardise other people’s life. I hate being an option, I hate being the bad one among the bunch, I hate being the cause of other people’s unhappiness. Either You prove me wrong, or take me out of their lives. I am done being the antagonist.

I told Him how much I love you sometimes. Nothing spectacular really but whatever. He knows anyway. You know too, I think.

I can’t really say these things out loud. It feels scary. But I know You listen.

Penulis

antsemot
A poetic cat

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