Vignette: Letters to God #11

Letters to God #11

Dear God,

I don’t really know what our relationship is, but I’m beginning to suspect that we are not pen pals, or maybe even pen acquaintances. It seems what we are is sans pen altogether.

I might be done with these letters. There’s only so much talking to yourself that a sane person can do. I mean maybe you’re catching every word and I just don’t know it. I think we imagine that you capture every word of everything. If that’s true, is there anything that makes these letters different from an order at Taco Bell? (Besides the fact that someone responds, however incorrectly, to the Taco Bell order. Is that your wisdom too? Should Garth have sung, “Sometimes I thank God for not getting what I ordered?”)

These letters feel like the equivalent of telling someone, “I love you,” or “I need you,” and having them clear their throat in response. Maybe I’m heard, maybe I’m not, but there is nothing in the reaction that makes me feel better.

I’m drowning. Respond at your leisure.

Coughing water,

Daniel