I never miss confessions. You might think that makes me a good catholic but you’d be wrong. I have had a long crush on the priest. It started the first day I saw him when he arrived at the parish. I took every opportunity to come close to him; sat on the same committees; help organize gatherings and spoke regularly to him. He caught on too when he realized I ran out of things to confess. Sometimes, we’d just sit there saying nothing. I like it this way. It’s like we are having a silent affair. Nothing untoward goes on between us except the knowing glance and the hidden smiles. I think of him when I go to bed and I daydream that we’d elope together far away but I know nothing is going to come of this.