A Total Eclipse of the Heart

I sat in a seat in a church, swallowed up by anonymity, thriving. Oneness in a room full of strangers, our hearts faced the same direction. It makes me tingle. In the silence that overtakes a room when a man prays, the train whistle sounded loud, just outside the walls, echoing in the done-over-warehouse acoustics. Somewhere in that hour my soul realized that ever elusive thought which mind has mulled over a thousand times; none of it is mine.
I possess nothing. That to which I cling with every last thread of strength and insist upon fretting over time and again does not belong to me. I have nothing. And yet I am unable to give this nothing up. The pictures of what is to come, what lays before me, they are not real and they are not mine. I claim ownership of nothing. Not even the illusions I struggle to grasp.
"So let Me have them."
"No, Lord," as my eyes begin to prick, "I can't." I did not give life to the people I love; I did not dream up the concept of them, nor did I shape them or even choose them for myself. They are mine to enjoy only by gift (though, I suppose, even the enjoyment does not belong to me for that too was gifted by Another). I have no right to anyone. They. Are. Not. Mine.
"So let Me have them."
Tears flow in earnest now and I literally stifle sobs for I know that I never can resist Him for long and before the end of the next hour I will be without every single thing I thought I had when I awakened just a little while before. What will I do without "my" dreams? MY face, MY hair, My brothers, MY fears, MY car, MY time... "Let Me have it." My composure barely held until the pastor finished talking. What am I saying? Composure abandoned me long before then. Quiet barely held that long. I squeezed my way through the packed row of seats, apologizing, and probably dripping tears on people. My bare feet protested the temperature of the floor. But then, they are not even really my feet, apparently, so what was I worrying about? I dropped to the floor in the front, literally unable to keep my face off the carpet, and sobbed.
I could not form the words. What evil lives in my nature swelled up into my throat and squeezed it shut. How can I let go? I know I don't actually control a damn thing. But oh the power of that illusion. If I let Him have them, He might take them. He might destroy everything. But He isn't a destroyer! The only thing I know in all this vast silly world is that His intentions toward me are good. "You can have it. You can have it all... Only promise me that what You say is true! Only promise me that You are who You say You are, and You can have anything You want. Anything."
But this place isn't everything. It isn't even anything. What is Bedford Falls? Fiction. Nothing more. A made up place. So what if I get wrinkly die? This that I am so frightened by is, in and of itself, nothing. I am not tied here. It does not end here. Childhood is not the end all be all of all things. It is not everything. It is not anything. Everything is what comes HereAfter. That is where I am tied. That is Neverland - the home of beauty, joy and neverty. I transcend this. That is now what is true. It always was, I am just to stupid to see sometimes.
I transcend this.