God—or whatever You are—we need to talk. If You’re there at all. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Are You there? Or are You just another idea we’ve built, something we cling to so we don’t have to face the void? Are You the architect of everything, or just the most comforting lie we’ve ever told ourselves?

I don’t know. And that’s hard to admit. I don’t know if You’re real, if You’re listening, or if I’m just talking to the walls. But I do know this: there’s something in me that keeps reaching out, even when I doubt. Some part of me that wants to believe, that feels something greater out there—even if I can’t define it, prove it, or even fully trust it.

Maybe You’re a construct. Maybe You’re society’s way of giving us hope, of keeping us in line, of making us feel less alone. And maybe that’s enough. Because even if You are just an invention, You’re still holding something up, something fragile but vital. A sense of meaning. A reason to keep going.

But what if You’re not just a construct? What if You’re real? That’s the question that keeps me up at night. Because if You are real, then what does that mean for me? For this life I’m living? For all the sins, the doubts, the messy contradictions I carry every day?

I want to know, but I’m afraid of what the answer could be. If You’re not there, then all this—this life, this struggle, this fleeting moment of existence—is just chaos, a meaningless blink in the dark. But if You are there, then what? Have I been ignoring You? Have I been too stubborn, too afraid to face You?

I’m torn between belief and skepticism, between hope and resignation. But here’s the truth: even in my doubt, I’m still here, reaching out to You. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? Even if it’s just a desperate grasp at meaning, it’s something.

So if You’re there, if You’re listening, help me understand. Help me see. Or at least give me the strength to keep asking these questions, even if the answers never come. Because whether You’re real or not, this search—this wrestling with the infinite—feels like the most human thing I can do.