God and her

.

I knew Jarek from childhood. He was responsible, even though a deep-seated madness lurked within him. I was drawn to his complete lack of emotion, his indifferent expression even in situations that seemed hopeless. No, that didn't mean he was stiff or phlegmatic, rather unpredictable. I was an incredibly sociable person; I liked having a group of men around me, preferably men I could constantly flirt with. I toyed with them, I could have anyone, but none of them lived up to my expectations. Only him. I loved looking at his black hair as he ran his hand through it. I admired his muscular, tanned body, which he flaunted while others looked on with envy. I wanted him for myself, I wanted him to be mine alone. And since I was brave and confident, sooner or later he had to be mine. Although it was no small feat, he resisted, rejected me, until he finally gave in. When he tasted my kisses, they were so sweet, he wanted more, more, more. I planned to have a brief relationship, like with every other "playful" object I'd ever had. But there was something about him that kept me from getting bored. I had to keep trying, keep fighting, and my biggest rival wasn't some leggy, busty blonde, but a man—God. I never understood his fascination with someone who didn't exist for me, someone I couldn't see, someone I couldn't talk to. Since childhood, God had been a figment of my imagination, like Santa Claus or witches. I fought his fascination, trying to separate Jarek from the church that was consuming him unconsciously. In the end, I decided I'd lost, that I couldn't change anything. I wanted to know his God so I could be with him, impress him, show him how much he meant to me. I didn't even notice that Jarek had taken my heart, stolen it from me!! For the first time, I loved someone so deeply, I wanted to change myself for someone. We would sit in the evenings and he would tell me about his God. I would listen, and even though I sometimes didn't understand, I would ask him to repeat it, to explain it. I saw a light in his eyes like never before. He felt he was doing something good, something great. I began to believe, to strive for the Almighty to count me among his children, to forgive me. For Jarek, we could live together happily ever after. I understood, I befriended the Most High. He became the father I never had, the friend I had previously despised. I made plans, I enjoyed the world, until that day arrived, the day I subconsciously dreaded. I woke up in the morning and went into Jarek's room. We hadn't slept together; he thought he respected me too much and wouldn't touch me until we were married. I actually liked it very much; he was different, he was wonderful. I entered the room and noticed a note on the bed:

Dominika!

Forgive me for disappearing without saying goodbye, but I'm lost in all this; I don't know what he really wants anymore. I'm leaving, don't look for me. I need to think it all through. Once I've made all the decisions, I'll come back, and if you still love me, we'll be together.

Jarek.

Decisions, what decisions??? What is he thinking about? What's he thinking? He left me, he has someone else... These were the only thoughts swirling in my head. But I knew he'd come back; he was too good with me. He'd come back, and I'd wait for him for a week, two, a month, even a year. But the days passed, and the weeks passed. Every evening after work, I'd peek into his room to see if he was there. I cried until my tears finally ran dry. After a year, I decided to go to church to God, the God I'd forgotten about without Jarek, and, as he told me, ask him for whatever he wanted. All I wanted was for my beloved to come back, for him to knock on my door. So I could feel the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hand again. He didn't grant my request. For the next three years, I lived day to day, no longer thinking about him, or at least I tried not to, because it caused pain. I fell back into my old habits: I used men with hatred, made them fall in love with me, and then discarded them like worn-out gloves. Well, gloves might not be the best example, but the hatred that lay dormant within me destroyed everything, until I finally felt so much loneliness that I didn't want to live. So senseless that I couldn't see a way forward. I decided I was cruel and vile, that I hurt people, and that I didn't care about God, whom Jarek loved so much. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. I took twenty too many pills and went to bed. Unfortunately, a neighbor had to visit me, and, concerned that I wasn't opening up, she called the police. They saved me, and the reproaches began, asking why, how could I have, I didn't care how everyone suffered. Everyone but him. While I was pondering another way to leave this world, I overheard Jarek's mother talking to my mother. That he was being ordained, that he couldn't tell me, that he would only do it after the fact... Why was I insufficient, indifferent to him? I couldn't allow this. The ordination was to take place on Sunday at Holy Trinity Church. With the last of my strength, I dragged myself there, spotted his mother, the entire family sitting joyfully at the front, and my heart was scattered into millions of tiny pieces, each sharp and hurtful. I sat through Mass until he entered. Mass... I wrestled with my thoughts, wondering if I was allowed, if I could stop this. Finally, when the bishop asked the question for the third time, I stood up and screamed as loudly as I could: no, you can't, I love you so much, and God won't allow this, he doesn't want this, you introduced me to him. I need you, I need your faith, your strength, because I'm dying.

He looked at me, then approached me and, so quietly and gently, said, "

Dominiko, you only think you love me. I'm your whim, just like everyone else. I loved you, but my true, selfless love is God. Let me go, because I don't want to, and I won't be your toy."

I wanted to scream, but I had no strength. I pushed him away and ran right under the wheels of a truck... only the screeching of tires and my own quiet, barely audible scream.

All his parents, who hated me so much for everything I'd done, ran out, he was filled with reproach. But when he ran up to me, I saw fear, and with the last of my strength, I whispered, "I truly love you, and I don't want to live without you." Then my eyelids closed, my breathing stopped, and the timid fragments of my heart stopped stirring me to live. I love you too, but I was afraid and wanted to do something for God, something great. Everyone wanted me to devote myself to him, and you mocked me. I thought you were toying with me. Then, perhaps it was thanks to God, or perhaps just a simple stroke of luck that accompanied my life. My heart began to beat, and I choked on the air, Jarek's beloved scent. It was clear he was pleased to see me "alive." No one asked any more questions; they took me to the hospital, and he watched over me every day. Every night, I felt like he didn't let go of me for a moment; I felt the warmth of his hand constantly. I couldn't believe it, yet God existed and helped me. It turned out he knew nothing about my suicide attempt, suspected nothing of my tears. I held no grudge against his parents; I know they loved him and meant well for him, even though they made a grave mistake. When I recovered, we married before God, before the one who brought us together, separated us, and returned us to each other. Every day, when I look at our little daughter, I can't believe it all, that I was able to do so much to be with him. It's all so unbelievable—my sudden recovery, my recovery, Jarek, my child. And yet I am happy now, and I want my Oleńka and all the children I will have to be just as happy. I want everyone to experience such happiness, even if only for a moment. I want them to believe in it. I want them to believe in God.