She sat across from me. We were talking about God, yet again. It was sunny out. It was warm. The porch I had so often walked across was now an island; a place I could not escape. I would have run away but my belly was full…swelling with the unborn I carried.
She cried. Her faces wrinkling, her eyes turning red. She stared at me as she pulled a drag on her cigarette. He remained silent beside me, as he always did when she spoke – such a passive gentle giant…such a fool.
I didn’t need to ask because I already knew where this was going. She whimpered through her tears. “You’re going to hell,” she said. I put my hands across my belly as if I were protecting my unborn from the heinous accusations being thrust at me. She sobbed, explaining that my unborn would meet the same fate. Because I did not believe. Because I denounced her deity. Because I did not believe.
This is the memory that keeps me up this evening. I have tossed and turned, tried to think of different things, tried to muster the energy tio add just a sentence to my June CampNaNoWriMo project. I cant. Because I don’t have it in me. I chose a topic that is foreign to me beyond compare. I choice to write about God in fiction because I thought it would be good for me, interesting, thought provoking. But I have come to a realization. I just don’t care. I find peace in my life when I am proactive…when I am working and providing for my son. I am tired but I am happy.
I reflect on that moment when I foolishly looked to someone for enlightenment. To the time when I believed that someone could teach me how to find peace and clarity. To a time when I ignored the ugly moments and stood in shame quietly while I hoped for redemption. To the moment when I held my hands over the swell of my belly and said “I don’t believe that,” instead of a big “fuck you.”
Because that is what she deserved. That’s what anyone who believes an unborn child is damned to hell because of the fault/beliefs of their parents deserves. I am ashamed that I have wasted almost a decade of my life attempting to push myself into a mold to appease sketchy people and their convictions. I will not pen another sentence of this novel until I decide where I stand. Period. I will not compromise my feelings, thoughts, emotions, and convictions in the hopes that I will fit into something I do not understand. I will not sacrifice my sanity and stability for anything or anyone who will attempt to demean me in order to overpower me.
She said me and my baby were going to hell. What she failed to realize was…I was already there. The journey I am on right now is the road to help me get out of that hell. The hell she helped to create. The hell I will never return to. The hell my child will not be subjected to. Because I said so. Period.