Ive never been good at saying things I didnt mean.
Maybe for sentimental reasons, or maybe its that good old-fashioned Catholic guilt.
Maybe its a reverence for the dead.
Jaime Casap
One of the letters is from the office of Barack Obama, from 2005 when he was a U.S.
I no longer identify as Catholic, or as a member of any organized religion.
Its not like a gym membership I can go and officially cancel.
Someone who says the words and sings the songs.
Ive never been good at saying things I didnt mean.
Youre like a prayer card to me.
My feelings for you.
Things Ive wanted on several occasions to throw away, but somehow couldnt.
For a combination of reasons that are sentimental and guilt-ridden and reverent.
I just cant do it.
And youre the only one who can say how well I knew you.
No sayis the wrong word.
Youre the only one whoknowsfor sure.
I think you had it figured out more than I did at the time.
Because there was a moment where you probably knew me better than anyone.
And I know for a fact that in that same moment you definitelyunderstoodme better than anyone.
For me, that was always the more important part.
But youre the only one who knows if I really knewyou.
Ifyouwere that moment on a twisting mountain road, in your grandmothers bathroom, or a ransacked apartment.
If the prayer card I hold onto is of someone who ever existed in the first place.
But whether you knew me or not, was never for you to say.
But I loved how grey you were to my black and white.
How when you couldnt sleep, youd mumble your way to slumber with as manyHail Marysas it took.
How you didnt think that a god who loved us would send anyone to hell.
I bought those books you told me about.
They opened up my mind beyond what I felt was right for myself.
And so did you.
Youre like a prayer card to me.
Because I know youre never coming back, even if I wish you would.
This isnt that book we read.
I got a small taste and have been paying for it ever since.
Youre like a prayer card to me.
A source of nostalgia and grief all wrapped into one.
I wanted to mean it.
With all my heart, I really tried.
And that tiny corner wasnt upset about it.
For once, there wasnt an ounce of Catholic guilt to be found.
