i love you (i’m on my knees)

Religion is placing faith in something you can’t justify, though you wish you could. So that when someone asks you about it, you’d know how to explain. It’s a desperate hope that whispers in the dead of night, promising solace in a world that offers none. What else is there? Is it nothing but a cosmic accident? Is everything we repent meaningless?

I look at love as though it’s a religion — not merely an emotion. I view love as if I must be a sinner, and I need to repent because I have sinned. Please forgive me. Forgive me if I have looked in your direction; you are just so divine, but I know I cannot breathe the same air as you. I look at love as if I need to get down on my knees. My love for you is a twisted religion. I kneel, not in worship, but in the crushing weight of my transgression. But I love you; please forgive me. Forgive me for wanting to be someone I could never be. Forgive me for desiring something I cannot have. I love you, and I am down on my knees.

Love is something I would kneel for every time I am desperate for it, but yes, I would push it aside if I don’t need it. Because the more readily I crave love, the more elusive it becomes. It is like trying to grasp water at Bethany beyond the Jordan — it slips out of my hands regardless. This love is a paradox. But I love you; please believe in me. I see love as if it’s religion. Religion is pleading for someone to believe in you. I love you, please believe me.

I love you and it feels like praying.