10 Sep. 2016.
If I put it in, you’ve got to understand, for me, that means we’re married.
We’re in the Golden Boat guest house, street 136.
Razor and me, we’re lying next to each other.
High from smoking.
Put it inside.
I lift my hands, make a circle with my left hand and push my right fore finger through the hole.
If I do this, to God, that means we’re married.
Like a wedding ring?
She’s smart, Razor.
The hand symbol for sexual intercourse is like a ring on a finger.
Exactly, I say. You know I’ve been celibate since I became a Christian. That’s 20 years.
Please put it inside.
We’ve been seeing each other for 3 months.
I’m in crazy love with her.
That means we’re married.
I tell her again.
And then I enter that place I can’t remember entering ever before.
1996 I found Christ.
Now is 2016.
My father’s birthday.
Easy to remember.
I marry her.