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“The problem is just that! Everything I feel about her is tenfold, and I can’t shut it down. I’ve lost who I was before her, which feels like a blessing and a curse at the same time. I didn’t like who I was before, but the version of myself that she brings out is the version I strive to be and then some.

“With Drew, I feel like I have it all, no matter what else in my world is crashing down, because sheismy world. I can be messy, unapologetically, and emotionally raw, and she still sticks around.”

“Wow.” Thom raises his eyebrows and scratches his head. “So you don’t like that you love her?”

“I don’t know.” My head drops as I’m brought back to the doubtful thoughts. “I want to. I really do. But Father Robert says that people who feel like I do are confused, sinful even.”

“Well, do ya believe him?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

We sit in silence for a minute, his eyes searching my face, trying to think of what to say.

“There’s nothin’ wrong with ya, Laine.” Thom’s face goes serious. The most serious I’ve ever seen him.

It scares me.

“If ya want to believe in the church and your God, ya can. But please know there’s room for ya up there in Heaven. No matter who gives you the ol’ stomach whirl.”

Thom’s words are comforting, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong with me. That I shouldn’t even be feeling this way in the first place, even if it weren’t a sin. The lifestyle those feelings bring is unorthodox, and nobody gets the life my mother would want for me to live an unorthodox life.

I don’t say anything back to him. Instead, I lightly draw a heart on his notepad, then draw a bold line across it diagonally, tracing over it several times to make sure it’s visible. Though judging by his reaction, I take it that I don’t need to do that for him to see my feelings on the paper.

Sliding the notepad across the table to him, I purse my lips and watch him stare down at the drawing. A soft smile grows on his face as his eyes relax, ripping out the paper and handing it back to me.

“Keep it. Hang it somewhere ya look at every day.” Thom taps his fingers on the table, studying my face again. I can tell he senses my confusion because he continues.

“Every time ya look at it, let it remind ya of your feelings. Moreover, let it remind ya that what you’re feeling is okay, yeah? That ya need to let yourself feel everything your head’s holdin’ ya back from.”

I give him a subtle nod as he gets up and scoots in his chair. As he walks toward the door, he glances back at me, a gentle smileplastered across his face. He leaves me at my small corner table with even more thoughts than I had coming in here today.

******

I want to believe Thom, but I can’t help but wonder if there is truth to Father Robert’s sermon as well.

Could confused people still go to Heaven? Or if Thom is right, would Hell be safer for people like me if people like Father Robert go on to reside in Heaven in the afterlife?

If God knows best, would He put me where I’msupposedto be? Where am I evensupposedto be? And ifIdon’t even know where I’m supposed to be, how could He possibly know me better than I know myself ?

15

Drew

Laine and I don’t have a label, but I don’t care. She’s

mine and I’m hers, and those are the only labels we need. For the next few weeks following our passionate evening at her house, we’ve spent almost every minute together.

Even Glibby has gotten used to having her around, running straight to greet her at the door whenever she comes over.

Things finally feel like they’re back to normal, hanging out every day and constantly texting and calling, but this feels lighter, likethe weight of our feelings has been lifted now that we’ve actually done something about it, and keep doing it.

It’s crazy to think that a few months ago I was worried about whether Laine and I would stay close following her move to Holy Trinity, but here we are, doing the damn thing.

“Hey, cutie,” I say through the phone as soon as the ringing stops. “When can I see the painting?”

“It’s not finished yet,” Laine responds, sounding exhausted.

“When are you going to finish it, Laine? It looked like it was almost done the last time I saw it.”