I cannot find God.

I have looked everywhere for him, or her, or them, or whatever the fuck is politically correct these days. Every journey of self-discovery, every trial and tribulation I have faced, every church, every single time I look, I come up empty handed. I’ve tried Catholicism, Islam, even Buddhism, but God is never there. I have visited the Vatican, made my pilgrimage to Mecca, and climbed the Holy Mountain, all in hopes of finding him somewhere, but I am lost.

At this point, I’ve given up hope: I stopped trying to find God. I am certain that if I have not found him by my waning age of 21, with all of Father’s funds, I never will. Categorically, I am an Agnostic, a fact I often omit; My friends think I’m Atheist. Why try and find somebody – perhaps, something – that doesn’t care about finding me. 

A few months ago, I packed what little I had, and started building my life close to where it all began: San Francisco. I wanted to stay close to my family, who lived in Los Angeles, but still have my independence. Father had set me up nicely with a trust fund, an apartment, and even got me a job I hate: a barista for a capitalistic conglomerate! On the plus side, I do love San Francisco. Many wouldn’t know it, but the history here is rich. Between the Counterculture Movement and the history of the Castro District, I knew it was perfect. I just wish I could’ve been born forty years earlier to experience it all. As much as I shit on my life, the people in this city have paved the way for me to even exist. 

I could never tell Father why I loved it here, I knew he hated it. We refuse to speak of it. 

He invited me to go with him on a business trip: to Okinawa, Japan. I’ve been thinking about it but I cannot find a reason to go. Having been to much of Asia before, and found nothing barring the delicious meals and fancy hotels – both of which smelled faintly of plastic. He prefaced the trip by asking if I had any dancing gigs booked; which, of course, I didn’t. He knew that he could pressure me into going, while also getting me out of his perceived Hellscape: San Francisco. 

A few weeks later I found myself in Japan – Okinawa was beautiful. It felt different than the Asia that I’d previously visited: there was no plastic smell. I could tell God was absent though. 

The people here rush about their lives too; I don’t understand the purpose of being part of a corporate machine, monotonously shifting from one task to the next. Even in America, the appeal is lost on me. Nevertheless, the culture here is much more my speed than the rest of Asia. As Father worked, I explored the country little by little. Eventually, I found myself riding a train in Tokyo; it was comparable to a ride in a can of sardines. I found myself lucky enough to have a handlebar to hold on to. Typically, I only pay attention to myself on a train, but something happened today.  

Today I noticed somebody. One sardine tucked back and beneath the rest of us. He wasn’t exactly what I envisioned, but there’s a saying about knowing at first sight. The train stopped before I could cross between the tight bodies packed into the train car. We exited the train within seconds of each other but became lost in the chaos that followed. 

As I exited to the street my life began to shake. There was an explosion beneath the street, and I had yet to find him. I had to find him. Not more than four minutes have passed since I laid eyes on this man, yet I could see my future with him. I saw our kids, our family, our house, the rest of our lives spent between San Francisco and Okinawa. I cannot lose you. 

I found God, and I found him in a lover.