St. Cecilia’s Catholic Church. Boston, MA.

I’m looking for God everywhere, trying to figure out this thing he made called a man.

I come to these things for you, and I know that you want me to come for myself, but who does that these days. Before I met you I imagined myself to be in a very different relationship, two miscreants running around without a care for consequences, getting into trouble. It turns out it would just be me and a good, honest guy. That’s you. And I know that one day you hope I’d believe in God and go to church and understand the Bible, and as long as you’re here, there might be a time when I start using the word “fate”. I can’t promise anything. Be patient with me, I’ll be listening for your guitar. Hope they can understand.