Forgive Me Father for I Have Sinned

“Do you want her to leave—or is it you yourself walking out the door that you desire?”

Jim raised his eyebrows, surprised to see that the Priest appeared to be taking his response seriously.

“Her.”

“How long has it been this way?”

The man pondered, but he could not see the past through the trees. The present was so corrupted that the future seemed impossible and the time before ceased to exist.

With an earlier intervention, perhaps they could’ve saved the marriage… perhaps it could’ve been different…

He could’ve learned to voice his desires and inquire about hers… and maybe even feed them.

She could’ve explained that she needed a husband still, not just a father to her children and a man in the house.

They could’ve shared the stress of being the source of income and maybe he could’ve stopped eating it.

They could’ve shared the responsibility of parenthood and worked together to provide the requisite amount of compassion to keep the family emotionally nourished.

A professional could’ve guided them toward this noble goal… and by the mere change in direction, who knows? The marriage could’ve been saved.

They might not have needed 100%... If they could’ve only made it 75% of the way there, it could’ve been good enough and he wouldn’t be pointing at that door, fantasizing about the enlivening, illusory future that lay behind it for him.

“Son, can I ask you something?” The Priest interjected, realizing that the man needed to be pulled from the depths of his introspection.

“Yes.”

“If the two of you stood before me… At 19, at 25, 32, 40… any point since you’ve known her... One hand on the bible and your eyes closed…”

The man followed the Priest's lips intently as if he was trying to beat him to the conclusion, but he could not identify the destination.

Suddenly, the Priest paused and his expression drooped.

“One hand on the bible and eyes closed? Then what?” The man asked.

The Priest swallowed hard and looked directly into the man’s eyes, “Would you have ever pointed at her? Or she you? Were you ever each other’s aim—or merely tourists on the same excursion?”

“I loved her, Father…” The man said, seriously. “She just—”

“That’s not what I asked.” The Priest said firmly, slaying the man’s diversion where it stood. “Just like aim and direction, to ‘love’ and to be ‘in love’ are different enterprises entirely. When one loves, they recognize their partner’s nature in the way that a cop can point out a suspect in a lineup, but when they are in love, it does not need to be identified at all. It is inside them already, like grammar. They do not think about it, they may not be able to properly articulate its tenants, but they know it wholly.”

The man nodded quietly, "I see, Father..." He left the church feeling raw, but seen.

Father John took out his phone:

He will be gone soon baby... 2 sessions max.