Atheists Who Kneel and Pray

by Tarryn Fisher

Beauty was deceiving in the same way credit cards were. It felt like it was free, but there was high interest with little return.

I was in the middle of an existential crisis and he was making me his person. How could he afford to be that honest? I was cheap. I fell for it because most of us just really want to be wanted.

“If you’re going to murder me, don’t fuck with my face,” I said. “I want an open coffin at my funeral.” “No deal,” he said. “I want your dimples as my trophy.” I laughed, and he looked at me warmly and said, “There they are.”

“Puppy love.” He nodded. “The wound is shallow but present.”

He made my truth light and funny without diminishing the importance of it. The perfect man. Perfect for me.

“There is no moving on when you’re truly in love. You try and you keep trying, but that love is a stain on your life. It’s just not that easy.”

“I like smart women, English. Cultured women. Funny women. Kind women. I like that type in every color and size.”

the spectrums of pain were meant to be felt and that they were beautiful in their own way because they caused change.

My drug was wanderlust. I got high by starting over. We always had a drug. We could replace one with another, but humans were addicts.

“We’re precise chemistry, Yara. We’re so good this feels like a dream. I want to marry the shit out of you.”

I’m asking them to come up a level actually. To show love instead of judgment. Because if they’re right about their belief system, there is an ultimate judge anyway, isn’t there? We don’t need human judges.”

I remember feeling panic for her as she walked down the aisle, even though she didn’t feel it for herself. How did she know everything would be okay, that he would take care of her, that she’d remain herself? I know now that she didn’t, that love was a leap of faith, and that love was just a word until someone gave it a definition.”

“I’ve thought a lot about that, actually. It’s when you can’t get someone out. They crawl inside you and they just live there for the rest of your life.”

“You young people treat love like it’s an accessory, not a matter of life and death. You’re amused by it, in love with the idea of it. You make all of your songs and books about it, but don’t know how to live it out. Love is not part of something else. It’s the only thing.”

Live barefoot and fucking fight.

“How can you still love me after what I did?” I ask him. His chin is dipped down to his chest and he seems to be in deep thought after having confessed that to me. “I never loved you for what you did or didn’t do,” he says. “That’s not what love is.”

“I didn’t know what I was missing. I had women who I thought I loved, who I spent time with, who I made love to. It all felt good until you came along. Then those encounters didn’t feel good anymore. It’s like living by a lake your whole life and then being taken to the ocean.”

You don’t forgive because they deserve it. Most of the time they don’t. You forgive to keep your heart soft. To move forward without bitterness. Forgiveness is for you.”