Bet

“You pray so badly for heaven, knowing any day might be the day that you die. But maybe life on earth could be heaven. Doesn’t just the thought of it make it worth the try?” ~Bo Burnham

I am a woman of science falling for a man of faith.

I cook more for him than I ever have for anyone in my life and I have willingly succumbed to the joy of domestication. He is cleanliness next to Godliness, creating a home for my renegade heart and tidying up my trail of organized chaos.

He’s an old man teaching this young gun his dirty tricks and I’m a wild child trying to get him out more. He’s a staunch conservative and I’m a flaming liberal (but I do like his guns, much to his satisfaction).

We talk about God, a fair bit actually.

He learned through the school of hard knocks and I had religion forced upon me through mandatory Sunday mass, catholic school and loving parents who meant well. He found God when he reached rock bottom. And my dad hopes I find God without ever having to fall that far.

I see reflections of a higher power in the world but in many ways, I’m still looking for it.

Pascal’s Wager is a practical argument for why one should believe in God, because the alternative is a whole lot of nothing and suffering. If I had to bet my mortal soul with everything I know and, more importantly, do not know, I’m placing my chips on the hope that there is more out there…a better place. Heaven.

Before I left for New Mexico to go on a month-long date with my man, my Sensei in jiu-jitsu gave me some advice: Don’t fall in love with the idea of someone.

With that gentle reminder, I went into the experience with the hope of new love but with eyes open and I came home with enough information to make a cost/benefit analysis of the relationship.

It seems we’ve reached a crossroads, one we’ve been exploring in each other’s absence.

I am falling for my foil. Our differences have caused a friction that is spicy, aggravating and easily provoked into the spotlight if we’re not careful. We are both Aries’, and therefore both Alphas. We are the rebellious brat vs the stubborn contrarian, the firework vs the quiet storm.

I know not to fall in love with the idea of someone. But I’ve tasted heaven. It’s us spending hours binging on the couch, both food and Netflix, while the dog sleeps on my lap after smoking too much crack. It’s us sipping coffee and tea in his backyard after he waters his bonsai trees. It’s the cozy mornings backing up the ice cream truck, holding my handlebar and his special affinity for my left boob. It’s the Snuggie and the slippers and the home cooked meals.

It’s coming home. It’s us being together, sharing space, sharing everything. Even the mac-and-cheese balls.

We are fighters who happen to be lovers and when we clash…it sucks.

Is this where I am supposed to be? Is this who I end up with? Will our differences break us or can we work through it to build a stronger foundation for our relationship? Can we respect each other’s viewpoints while still holding on to our individuality? Is make-up sex worth fighting for or can we just have the sex without the fighting? Despite our flaws, can I choose this person every day and can I trust him to choose me?

Through questioning, we find truth. But contrary to popular belief, truth does not necessarily equate to facts. Being strong in a conviction does not automatically make it right and being right often comes at the cost of being happy. We try to cut through all the man-made constructs of why we are different, the lines in sand, so vehemently drawn yet so easily blown away. From dust we came and to dust we shall return, and when we do, none of the petty bullshit matters.

All that matters is we fight for each other and not with each other. Nothing worth fighting for ever came easily. All that matters is us.

I can feel it, the falling part. It’s exhilaration, happiness…and also OH SHIT, THIS IS SCARY… But on other side of that, there is peace, and love, and home. And heaven.

Maybe I am running headfirst towards a mirage of water in a desert. But maybe it’s a pond, with a few ripples surrounded by bonsai trees and enchiladas. Maybe the idea of being happy together is one I’m starting to fall in love with. And maybe it won’t work out, but doesn’t just the thought of it make it worth the try?

I think so.

There’s really no way to know if there is a God or if there is a heaven. No way to know how things will turn out or if I’m making the right decisions. But I do the best I can.

When that isn’t enough, sometimes one just has to say a prayer, go all in, book a one-way ticket to the other side of the country….

And take a leap of faith.

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By Muriel Palanca

Photo by @peter_g_nyren_photography