I want to believe.
Yet, I do not believe. Not really. Not truly. My willingness, my desire, my obsession to believe almost anything leads just to the opposite – to believe in everything means to also believe in the opposite of everything, which in turn leaves you with nothing at all.
I want to believe, but there's nothing to believe in. In the end it comes down to a random choice.
My only constant choice is she. Was it a series of random events that brought her to me, or was it fate? Was it meant to be, or did it just happen, out of nowhere, without a reason? How does a man tell? How does one know?
Either way, she is my only choice. She is the quiet center of my storms, my anchor, my salvation. In my hectic search for the truth she keeps me grounded, and my desperate tastings of foreign convictions always lead back to her steady, forgiving arms.
What I'm trying to say is, when I don't know what to believe anymore, I have the strength of her beliefs. Those we do not share, but also we do not doubt them and sometimes I think I need them more than she does, more than she'll ever need anything.
Her God. Her science. Her partner. Not in that order. No, surprisingly enough, the order is reversed. To her, I come first. For me, she would give up her science and her God if she had to. She would give up everything, and she did, more than once.
My believer.
I envy it sometimes. Life is simpler when you can believe what you've been told. Your parents, your teachers, your priests, your friends… They are all correct, they all speak the truth. Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are always just beyond your reach, waiting for you to fall asleep so that they could do their magic without distractions.
Good children get presents and good people go to Heaven. Simple.
Unless, of course, your sister went to a flying saucer instead, your parents separated, you stopped talking to your father and your mother stopped talking to you…
You can't believe anything anymore, but you are willing to try to believe everything, to at least forget what you can't bring back, but will never stop trying.
She will drift away from her God, but He will never leave her heart. That's the difference. I just make deals, my faith is replaceable and inconsistent like a wind. If it serves a purpose bring it on, but when it doesn't get me what I wanted I will burn the bridges in a glorious, but short-lived fire, and then I will painfully rebuild them, just to check if I missed something, a tiny clue, a hidden hope…
She will just reach to her cross and her God will save us both.
She is a scientist. Just like she never doubted her God, she never doubted her science. Everything can be measured, tested and classified. Everything can be explained, if not now, with current technology, then sometime in the future. Her God talks to her through science and she is a damn good listener.
Science is too slow for me. God is too abstract and he doesn't seem to be keen on me. It's all very distant to my crack-pot mind. Yet, she believes enough for both of us.
She believes in me.
I held her life in my hands more times than I want to remember. I stopped her bleedings, resuscitated her heart. I begged her back from a comma and hugged away nightmares from her soul. I killed for her and cried with her. I've seen her dirty, beaten, broken and defeated. But even at her weakest, she is much stronger than I could ever hope to be.
My touchstone. My rock. My damn boulder!
She believes in me and nothing comes between her and her believes. It's the only certainty, the only constant in my whole life.
Her partner. Her science. Her God. In that order.
My believer.