I don't want to let go, but it hurts my hands to hold the rope.

I had written a bullet chart titled "I don't want to be a student leader anymore because:" it listed legitimate reasons why I wanted to leave. I held it proudly, I thought he'd laugh about it, be lighthearted towards my unnecessary list, and I'd be out in thirty minutes or less. I had even planned out his responses.

I made it so I could say what I wanted to say without crying or getting off topic.

We sat down I tried going through it but I can't read out loud too well so I gave it to him to read.

             ____________________________________

Quiting a simple group turned into an unwanted intervention.

lots of questions.

Sunday school answers. I knew what aswers were right. It's the fact that I don't like, and am very bitter towards what's supposedly right!


I hate that my only argument against the bible included the gays. Was that really all i had? 


he knew what he was talking about, he used the I-know-you-know-the-answer-but-I'm-going-to-ask-you-the-question-anyway-to-make-a-point-tactic.


It lead to him asking me over and over again about what I was going to do, either live for myself (go to hell) or God (go to heaven.) 

He explained that there was no middle ground.


More questions.


I felt torn open, a mix of anger and sadness, and horribly uncomfortable.



  I worked a bigger hole into my jacket. I looked for a tissue but there wasn't one.

I stared at the floor and my hands.



what sucked was that I knew that i just was one of the thousand other silly teens "running away from god" what I think is SO normal for my age. That's what upset me the most. That this and what I say was expected, heard before, and cliche.

a testimony in the making...



I wanted to run away and hide when i saw it like that, like I always do, but i couldn't.

why do I always hide anyway?


I had already asked myself all these questions. Hearing them again in a I'm-making-a-point tone just frustighted me. I have answers, but there's too many to all say at once without crying and choking on my words.
 
I was allowed to be rude. He said it was OK to be angry at him. But i wasn't, i just wanted to leave and cry without him staring at me while explaining the way i think and the solution that involveded me "getting on your face and praying"



I KNOW WHAT GOD WOULD TO "SAY" TO ME!
I know what my friends are going to say to me. I know what I'm going to say to me.



So i don't ask. I just live. What's wrong with that?


Last question.

"what are you thinking about all this?"


                                                     

                                                                                           "....I don't know... and I want to go home."