Tell Me Something That Bothers You

Tell me something that bothers you, she said. Nothing bothers me. She said, something bothers you, something bothers everyone. Not me, I said. But she wouldn’t let it go. What about me being with other guys? she said. Okay, that bothers me. What about a naked girl who crouches above your chest to bestow upon you the brown cow? she said. Please stop . . . then she was quiet a moment before she said, what about eternity? That was easy. I told her that eternity didn’t bother me because my personal Lord and savior was Jesus Christ, and whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish. She said, that one bothers me because just think, you’ll never . . . not. But instead of just thinking, I just kissed her, and she said, ugh you’re impossible. The truth is, I didn’t want to think about the never not-thinking because, though I didn’t know it at the time, that bothered me too.