Heaven’s Not In It

September 7, 2012 § Leave a comment

Compulsion to challenge myself challenges my capacity to fulfill the challenge. And so it goes ’round: Life as irony’s toy. I’m sorry I even acknowledged that, though irony hasn’t the sway it once had; and absent it, the void fills with anger and shame over its manipulation, which I fully sanctioned then. I am not that cynic now. The wounds are laid bare. That they are self-inflicted makes them no less painful. I won’t presume to adjudge the pain I inflicted upon Herself, feeling she would proscribe it as overfamiliarity. Already, I have overpresumed. Incessantly, I ask her forgiveness; incessantly I disallow myself the presumption that she would give it. Absolution is not really what I want–or not all that I want. Once she has forgiven me, I want her to love me. This is my purgatory, if not my hell. Heaven’s not in it.

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