More Human

     I fought to conceal the smile forming on my lips. I brought my glass up to hide the growing grin. I would not give him the satisfaction of my laughter after that godawful pun.

     “I saw it, I saw that smile!” They exclaimed, their grin that of pure joy and I couldn’t help but smile back.

     I shook my head and lowered my glass, “Don’t patronize me,” I replied, with no real meaning in the words. Our laughter died down and it grew quiet. In the silence I found the courage to start the conversation I knew we need to have.

     “Okay, I have to admit, I didn’t believe the whole God thing on our first date,” I confessed.

     “Yeah, when I look back, I probably shouldn’t have teleported us to see the northern lights out of the blue like I did,”

     “A warning would have been nice,” I said shifting in my chair, “And you’re probably expecting it, but I have a few questions,” I was raised Catholic, but I was never devout, never having the faith others did. God had approached me in mortal form to ask for the first date and when it slipped out that they were God, I didn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe. I almost refused the requested second date. I didn’t want to associate with a deity I held no faith in. And despite God proving their status, I still did not have any religious faith for them and I did not want to face him when I held such a secret. Yet here I was, hoping maybe something would change. Hoping they would give me an answer that would change the disbelief I still held.

     They sat straighter giving me their full attention, “Ask away-”

     “How old are you?” I asked suddenly.

     Their eyebrows lifted in surprise, “Oh wow, umm, only about four thousand years? Have to say no one’s asked me that in a while.”

     My mouth went dry; I was shocked. Not by how old, but because of how young, “I-” I cleared my throat and started again. “I thought it would be in the billions at least, was actually expecting the ‘beginning of time’ line.” I admitted.

     “Well,” They replied hesitantly, “I actually wasn’t the first god, and I won’t be the last,”

I stared at God, evaluating their words. Was ‘God’ just a job title? Did they cycle through? Did Gods retire? Did they die? God claimed to be four thousand years old, and that they weren’t the only god. From what I remembered from the Bible, neither of those statements was supposed to be true. God watched as I chewed on my bottom lip, my brows burrowed in confusion. I opened my mouth to voice my confusion when another thought shot into my mind.

     “Did you mean you were not the only Christian God, or you were not the only god,” I spoke carefully.

     “I am not the only god,” They started in a cautious voice, “Judaism started about four thousand years ago, that is when I began, and when the religion began to form. Most religions formed because there was a god, or gods, that inspired faith among the people. I was lucky enough to be able to do such a thing. I have powers and knowledge and so do others, I am not the only God,” they began to spout. “I am not the only God that deserves worshipers. There are people who do not believe in any God, and they deserve no less respect than those who do. Not everything in the bible happened; some things got blown out of proportion, some of it the people just wanted to believe, so they did.” The words came out raw and unprepared. They’re respect and views were genuine. They glanced to the side, their body tense and eyes filled with uncertainty. They rubbed the back of their neck and kept their gaze away from the table. The table was quiet as we sought for words to say.

     “So, tell me,” I started, “are there god’s night?”

Their eyes snapped to mine, “What?” They asked, somewhat hesitant.

     “You know, like girl’s night but with all the gods! You guys have to have gotten together and hung out!” I determined, “You better not tell me that in your four thousand years of life, you and the other deities haven’t gone out and had fun at least once.”

They quickly regained composure, trying to laugh off their shock “I can’t reveal all my secrets in one night,”

     “On the first date we got philosophical about the meaning of life, the second date I learn there are other gods, but I have to wait till the third date to learn whether or not you’ve hung out with Zeus? You’re trying to keep this mysterious god persona, but I already know you’re a goof who tells puns,” I said blatantly.

     They shook their head in disbelief, a small smile on their lips “Well, since my covers blown,” They said with a shrug, “Why did a hawk land on a church’s steeple?” I glared at them a smile tugging at my lips.

     They leaned across the table, already looking delighted “Because it was a bird of pray,”

     “Oh my God,” I moaned leaning back in my chair.

     My eyes widened. I tensed up and dared to look at them to see if they had realized. They were already looking at me with a smug smile.

     “I think that counts as a pun,” They claimed.

     “I’m done, I’m leaving,” I said halfheartedly, “you’re rubbing off on me and I won’t stand for it,”

     “Then how are you going to leave if you don’t stand?”

     I couldn’t help it, I laughed. It was all absurd. I was on a second date with God. A god who ate dinner and told puns and corny jokes. A god that was nothing like I expected at all. They were normal. So much so, I could forget I was even speaking to a god. I heard their laughter with mine and despite it all my grin grew wider.

      After a long while our laughter died down. “Why are we doing this,” I asked the one questioned that had been on my mind since staring at the brilliant streaks of Aurora Borealis, “Why are you doing this?”

     The god sobered as they looked at me with a tender gaze, “Because you make me feel more human than I have in a very long time,”