Goodbye
© 2000
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As of the moment I write this letter, you and I are no longer together. This may come as a shock to you since you always thought you were perfect and no one would ever want to leave you, but the time has come for me.
Don’t get me wrong, our relationship had some high points. I remember when I first found you and every day was magical, and I would go to your house and sing for you, and I imagined I could feel how much you enjoyed it. Yes, I remember talking to you every night before bed, and I loved how you listened and never interrupted, just regarded me with reflective silence while I spewed out my hopes and dreams. And I read your writings so I could try to get to know the real you a little better, thinking it might give some insight into what you were really like.
You never talked much. I think that’s part of the reason I’m leaving you; I’d read your words and sometimes become confused because it looked like you contradicted yourself or said things that were terribly wrong, but when I asked you about it, you never gave me any answer. I loved you, but sometimes it really seemed you didn’t love me back. Of course, I imagined you did, and that you just had a funny way of showing it, but now that I look at it in retrospect I realize you may not have even noticed I loved you, or at least how much.
You hurt me. You were never with me at the times I most needed you; I understood you were busy, but you were so great in my eyes that you should have been able to take on everything at once, especially my little problems. You know, I just needed someone to talk to, some guidance sometimes, and I could never seem to get you to clear things up. And after the initial rush of discovery—you know how relationships are—it became a lot less romantic.
I realized that loving you took away time, effort, and sometimes even money, and in the beginning I gave it gladly, but that’s over now. I’m tired of sharing you with the world, I’m tired of you expecting me to worship you, I’m tired . . . just plain tired of waiting for you.
One of the few things you did say was that if I wanted to truly be with you I’d just have to wait, and be faithful to you while in the meantime you definitely couldn’t have been faithful to me. And some of the things you’ve done during our relationship—you were responsible for some heinous things that should have been illegal, if you didn’t believe yourself so important that you were above the law, not to even mention some of the stuff you did before we met. I used to ignore it because you never did your dastardly deeds to me or anyone too “close to home,” but I knew in the back of my mind that you had to be responsible for some of them even if they didn’t affect me directly.
But you wouldn’t discuss it with me, even though I wanted to know why you did those things, and why you expected me to be good when you turned around and did such horrible things—talk about the pot calling the kettle black! You are a giant hypocrite. And you tell me I’ll understand someday . . . well, that’s bull, and you know it. You just didn’t trust me as much as I trusted you, and that’s a big part of why our relationship failed.
You never believed in me, and that’s why I can’t go on believing in you.
For this and lots of other reasons, I am becoming an atheist.
Goodbye, God.
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