Purgatory

I've always found the word "purgatory" comforting

If "heaven" is predictable and trite, 

"purgatory" is fresh, 

secretly exciting. 

The word is funny

"purgatory"

even a protestant can spin it. 

I'm not Catholic, 

but if heaven is perfect and final, 

then purgatory is my paradise.

I've never not been in anticipation

I lay down with a knot in my stomach 

what's next? 

every night for 21 years

wonder keeps me rising

Stability means certainty

Certainty means....nothing

dull, monotony, purposeless, stuck 

being stuck in paradise is being stuck. 

The best I've ever been is in moments of utter suspension

anything could be next

the risk of catastrophe is worth the exhilarating possibility of....who knows?

It's not that I'm sure it'll work out

I'm not

In fact I know it won't

It's that I understand the double-sided sword of uncertainty, and I claim it 

I have said goodbye forever

I know people don't reanimate

There is no re-wind 

It's not even that the risk of hell is worth it for heaven, 

It's that the risk of hell is worth it for the thrill of not-knowing. 

It's a pity I'm a Presbyterian

In my theology not a soul escapes heaven, not even the worst

And here I am, saying an uncertain damnation 

is better than a certain salvation. 

So what have I to cling to but a mysterious, 

liminal,

purgatory?

The last post-mortem vestige of anticipation,

suspension,

and uncertainty.

There are a few certainties I hold dear,
certainties I would be wasted without,
but few in number compared to the limitless opportunities to not-know.

I can't imagine being old enough to know where I'll die

advanced enough to know who I'll be 12 months 

or even what I'll look like in two years.

I'll tell you the worst part of growing up.
The worst part is every year that passes leave's less time for mystery.
For example
I already found out where I go to college, what I major in, and what wonderful people I meet.
That's three surprises, already exposed.

It's going so fast, it feels like I fast-forwarded and accidentally saw spoilers.
I want to savor every moment of ambiguity.

Anyone could tell you what their heaven looks like

Pearly, iridescent, soft, clean

But I swoon at the silence produced when you ask of purgatory

Thresholds are my home. 

So I hope I'm pre-destined 

to never be sure.