If Heaven Has a Guest List, Am I Still On It?

I used to think temptation came with horns and a pitchfork.Red flags.Warning signs.Maybe a burning bush that says,"This is where you turn back."But she didn't come like that.She came like a TikTok algorithm,like a page I kept scrolling back to,like a profile I'd visit and exit and visit againhoping she wouldn't notice.Six months of watching from a distance.Six months of telling myself,"It's just admiration.""It's just aesthetic.""It's just... nothing."But nothing doesn't keep you up at night.Nothing doesn't make your heart stutter when she posts.Nothing doesn't feel like this.Then she sent me a video."Allow yourself to be loved."And I laughed.I actually laughed.Because who loves me the way I want to be loved?Who sees me and stays?I should've left it there.Should've shrugged it off like I always do.But she asked,"How do you want to be loved?"And suddenly my fingers were moving,typing things I'd never said out loud,confessing to a screen what I couldn't confess to a mirror.Hours passed.Radio silence.I watched those three dots appear and disappearlike my heartbeatirregular,panicked,waiting for the other shoe to drop.Then she asked the question.The one I'd been running from for months.Years, maybe."Do you like girls?"And I tried to play it off"Like or like-like?"As if there was any ambiguity left.As if I hadn't already given myself away."Like-like.""Yeah," I typed."I like-like girls."September 2024.That's when it started.Or maybe that's when I stopped pretending it hadn't already started.Now it's January 2026.Four months in.And I'm still here,caught between her and Heaven,between what I feel and what I've been taught,between love and the fear of missing the Rapture.Because I know what the Bible says.I know it was Adam and Eve,not Adam and Steve,not Eve and... another Eve.I know what my church says.What my parents would say.What God might say when I stand before Himand He asks why I chose this.But I didn't choose this.I didn't wake up one day and decide,"You know what? Let me complicate my salvation."I just... liked her.I like-like her.The way she makes me feel seen.The way she asked me how I want to be lovedand then actually listened.The way masculine-presenting women do something to my nervous systemthat I can't pray away,can't fast away,can't wish away no matter how hard I try.And I have tried.God knows I've tried.To be normal.To like boys the way other girls do.To fit into the mold,to stop being a disgrace to myself,my parents,my faith.But pushing her away will break her.And staying will break me.Or maybe I'm already broken.Maybe that's the point.Maybe I'm supposed to be at war with myselfuntil I finally surrenderto holiness,to straightness,to a version of me that doesn't exist.I don't want to go to hell.I don't want to miss Heaven because I loved the wrong person.But I also don't want to spend my whole lifewishing I was someone else.So here I am.Bisexual.Believer.Confused.In love.Terrified.Holding her hand with one of mineand reaching for God with the other,wondering if I have to let go of oneto hold onto the other.Do I?

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