I sat in my bishops' office, still a tender seventeen years old. Sent to sit and confess my sins from the Summer of 1997. I'd spent the Summer being a lusty lad, having plenty of passionate, hormonal sex with my lovely Miss Rita Rosalie. I cried as I laid my sins out there for a man that may or may not have cared. It was his job to take it to God for me. It was my job to confess to him. And in theory, if I never sinned like that again, I'd be forgiven.
His words rocked my brains for days after, plunging my fragile psyche into a tailspin of depression that took months to overcome.
"Do not believe for a moment that light and darkness are not fighting for your soul. Both can pull at you with mighty force. It is a battle to the very end and there will only be one clear winner. Darkness is clever, but light, light makes the knees of darkness tremble. There is still light in you, I can see it shining brightly. When you sin as you have done, the clever darkness can dim that bright, shining light..."
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