My Best Angel

My Best Angel

A Story by Gianna Anaya
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This is an older piece of mine and my writing has increased in quality since then but this piece still means the world to me.

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Ever since I was a child, religion was shoved down my throat. I can recite to you the old and new testament stories with complete accuracy; my current beliefs didn’t stem from resentment from over exposure, but instead from the death of my best friend. I convinced her to bring her long term girlfriend to her church, their love for God was something they shared. Despite the stares and the gawking that surrounded them, the smile on their faces blocked them all out. My best friend was a 10 year member of the church; She sat two rows from the front, three seats from the middle; the next Sunday her Hymn book was scribbled with profanity. My best friend loved to bake, on Easter Sunday her meal was filled with dirt, and her potluck contribution was thrown to be food for the birds. Slowly she was shunned from her true home, a steeple that had seen her on her knees and standing tall.

No words from me could fill the hole this left her with, and she diminished under the weight of ‘sin’. She left this world in hopes that God would forgive her, the pain of a slow death being her penance.

My best friend used to sing loud enough to reach the angels, now she is an angel.

My best friend used to sit two rows from the center and three chairs from the middle, now her seat is occupied by someone new, someone straighter.

My best friend used to bake, now I hold her recipes close and pray one day it will get easier.

Her girlfriend killed herself a month later. Most people call this a tragic love story of a couple too far gone, I call it a martyr of a lost cause. The world goes on without them, the choir continues to sing, and my faith leaves me as quick as it came.

I pray my best friend met a God who held her in his arms until all her tears dried. If I never see her smiling face again, I’ll be okay with that if only to know that she’s happy.

My dear, lost sister, I will hold tight to your memory and not my cross in hopes that my lost faith will makeup for the sin that took your breath away. Let you rest, let you pray, let you find peace in arms that aren’t mine. But I promise  I’ll still sing for you, My Angel, on Easter Sunday.


“Forever and forever, farewell. If we do meet again, we shall smile; if not, why then this parting was well made.”

© 2017 Gianna Anaya


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Reviews

I understand this all too well. I was raised in the Mormon church and I firmly believed homosexuality could be cured until I left for college. It's really eye opening to realize that whatever religion you came from has done more harm to others than good

Posted 3 Years Ago


Gianna Anaya

3 Years Ago

This piece wasn't meant to diminish the help that religion gives to some people because it honestly .. read more
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Gee
Jeez that's sad. Never had a religious bone in my body and it astounds me constantly that so many folk base their lives around a 2000 year old story, it's as if they need to justify being here.
The older generation, folk in their 70's, 80's it seems will never accept same sex relationships whereas today generation and my daughter's generation are at last becoming more accepting of each person's right to love whoever they choose.
Enjoyed your writing Gianna


Posted 3 Years Ago


Gianna Anaya

3 Years Ago

Thank you for your review!
While I, myself, am not religious I do understand the appeal for .. read more
Gee

3 Years Ago

My pleasure. Wonder if Harry Potter will be adorning stained glass windows in the year 4000 ???
Gianna Anaya

3 Years Ago

If I have something to say about it, I hope so.

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207 Views
2 Reviews
Added on November 25, 2017
Last Updated on November 25, 2017
Tags: Religion, best friend, suicide prevention, LGBT, lesbian, angel

Author

Gianna Anaya
Gianna Anaya

About
I write the world that exists around me; I write the world I wish existed around me; I write the world I hope no one ever has to witness; above all I write the corners of my brain that I simple can't .. more..

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