I REPENT

Saturday, June 28, 2008: Dear Diary; Well, I can't sleep again. A woman I saw at the store has me questioning so much. I work for a Christian school and go to the connected church, but more and more I feel I do it for my family only. Last week I went on a trip. That's me, a waterfall chaser. Anyway, it was on that trip I drank for the first time, Smirnoff vodka, watermelon flavor. Now I buy the cranberry flavor and create my own cocktails. I guess what I'm trying to say, Diary, is if I keep this up, there's every chance I'll leave the life I've known.

Sunday, June 29, 2008: Dear Diary; Well, it's midnight and I can honestly say this is turmoil. Today I will have to go to Free Community Church, my church since childhood, and listen to the spiel of Jordan University, a conservative Christian college. I think today will be the hardest it's been in a long time. I watch movies, like Bar Girls, and keep wondering; am I a lesbian? I don't want a long term relationship with a woman and, I know this pretty well, never with a man. So, am I easy? Will I just hop from one relationship to the next? Will I be a social butterfly lesbian? This frightens me. I don't do physical without an emotional connection first. I guess I'll try to go to bed. If I spend some "me" time I might relax enough to sleep. God, I need help.

Monday, June 30, 2008: Dear Diary; I'm so glad I went to church! It put the free in Free Community Church for me. On the stage stood a group from the college, singing songs of faith, songs that just don't mean anything to me anymore. Anyway, as I find myself attracted to older females, anywhere from 10 to 15 years older than me, I was in 7th heaven when I caught a glimpse of their choral director. She stood 5' 5", had a beautiful bob of raven black hair and wore an A-line maxi skirt. Somehow, though she looked very much the part of a moral matron, something seemed a little off. I soon discovered what was different; she had a tattoo of a butterfly on her arm. Her blouse was short sleeved, and every once in a while that tattoo would flutter into view. Our eyes met, and it was, as they say, Kismet. We caught each other in the ladies room and there we exchanged numbers. The pastor's wife, Sherry Timberman, had been in there and she just took it at face value. Our pastor, Waldo Timberman, loves to say how he keeps the news and the views away from his wife. I think he's a fool for that philosophy but at least he doesn't keep her barefoot and pregnant. How can you when vanilla missionary is all you know.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008: Dear Diary; I need a hobby. Something to keep me occupied when I wake up from my fever dreams. Actually, more like fever nightmares. There I am, surrounded by a bevy of mature babes, all soft butches. I've given myself over to absolute pleasure and I'm swimming the warm waters of sins of the flesh. And just as suddenly I find myself in hell. But not the hell of flames of fire, clouds of sulfur, screams of agony and gnashing of teeth; no, this hell is more akin to being in a desert where the only water you have is salt water. Here every woman smiles at me and beckons, but I have chains surrounding me, chains fashioned from immortal metals fired in the forge of thou shalt not. However, there's a new wrinkle; Sierra. Sierra Monroe, the choral director, the woman of my fantasies, comes in and slays the beast of desire. But just as she's about to free me from my chains she gets entangled in her own and now we're both trapped by morals we neither one truly believe in. Sometimes I wonder; should I repent of my Christianity? Should I let go of God and walk the path I need to walk for me?

Wednesday, July 2, 2008: Dear Diary; Well, here I am. It's 3 AM. I must be loony. I've decided one thing; I can't look God in the eye, as it were, and disown Him. So I'm choosing the path of least resistance; I am an agnostic. I neither believe nor disbelieve. I simply exist. And play the piano naked. I have to do this, I have to be this, if I am ever to be truly free. I think I'll go to Vegas so I can know me. I'll show girls one can leave your faith and the faith of your fathers to be true to oneself. I will search my heart and find room for love, lust and a nice set of wheels. Oops, sorry Diary, too many years spent watching television rather than living. I must live now, I must grab the brass ring of life and relish every minute, every second, as if it were my last. I will finally feel free to be me. And I will have Sierra in my life. In fact, we'll live, we'll exist, together. I'm going to ask her to be my companion. I don't want to be married, just together. And free of kids. If I'd have wanted kids I'd have had them by now.

Friday, July 4, 2008: Dear Diary; Today was wonderful. I'm only writing this at 11 PM as opposed to my early morning hours because Sierra and I have just watched our first fireworks display together. There was even a series of rainbow flag ones. How appropriate. She's sprawled out on the couch, asleep, and I think she looks like an angel. I'm 29 and she's 44. She's everything I could have hoped for. And the plans we have, the adventures we'll partake of together, will bring us closer than ever before. She held my hand during the fireworks and she kissed me so gently it felt as if time stood still and she was a goddess, here to help me feel connected. I thank the universe for her (remember? Agnostic.) and I'll affirm daily, as I'm balancing my root charka, that she is mine and her good vibrations will fill me with joy. So, Diary, thank you. Thank you for helping me become a new woman. Thank you for helping me accept who I am. And most of all, thank you for helping me to know, of all the wasted years I've spent and of all the hours lost, I repent.