Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

The least he can do is go to church with me for the one day that all of us heathens go. Yes, we're struggling and yes, life is not fair, and going to church this one day isn't going to overturn our situation into some magical unicorn fun-filled blissful world but it gives me a little more hope. I can go alone and see the pretty children all dressed up like little adults, the old ladies with big fancy hats, the long lost stripper and neighborhood drug dealer and the fashion forward millinials with the tablets and gadgets, ect. Everyone who goes to church on Easter Sunday is expecting something, a smile, a hug, a plate of fried chicken and collard greens, to see a loved one who hasn't been around for a while, to make amends, seek comfort, see who's going to give their soul to God for the 1st, 2nd, and 5th time...... we're expecting something. And I don't think my man expects anything anymore. That's a bit dramatic of me to compare him not wanting to go to church on Easter Sunday to him losing hope and good expectations, but that's how I feel soooo, I don't know. Good night.