I walk through the heavy oak doors and stroll up the aisle towards the old man who was once such a grand friend of mine. His eyes glance up at me and his eyes linger on me in surprise. "Ah Frank!" He says almost excitedly. He steps down from his high stature and greets me with a pat on the back at the end of the aisle. "I haven't seen you since you were four or five, son." I instantly feel regret and disappointment in myself at his kindness after all these years. "I hear you've been busy. Finding someone to spend your time with and go to for comfort." He means Gerard. Homosexuality is a sin, I fucking knew this was a stupid idea. "Yeah- he's....great, thanks." I say my eyes darting all over the church. "I see no flaw in your actions Frank, I know you needed saving. Plus, now it's your turn to return the favour." And after that one simple statement I realised I didn't need to seek love from God. I simply needed to fight this time. For once, I couldn't fail.
I walked up the cobbled cracked pathway. I simple needed to sit in the quiet for a while. I wasn't running to anyone, I just needed to be alone and feel something. I'd always liked the church in our old town. I never belonged to a religion and never attended services regularly. Some may say I chose when I was a christian. But I wasn't taking advantage. I was just seeking again.
My cherry tree. My Angela's cherry tree. my first born. My little girl. She had died of cot death at three months old and part of me had never recovered from finding her tiny precious form, cold in her crib of soft pinks and laced decor. I had been so young back then, so immature and thinking I knew it all. But secretly, I was a lot younger than even I knew. But I was old enough to love and I was old enough to lose. Hopefully, this time I was too old to lose and Angela was going to help me through this. And she would be there for her baby brother.
Suddenly, I am ripped from my thoughts by someone stumbling into my shoulder. I whirl around in surprise and find a dumbfounded and tearful Frank. He needs to know why. And he needs my son, just as much as my son needs him. With Angela beside me, I took him in my arms softly. "He still loves you. He doesn't want to burden you, go to him. Please Frank." And together we run for the saviour, which is words. Conviction is my only hope. Truth? Is Franks, and it could make or break all of us.