the privacy act (or why altar calls don't work in the twenty-first century)

i hate the guilt.
i also hate the 900 pairs of eyes
scanning the room, wondering:
"is he going to go up there?"
and if i do, will they
think the worst of me?

they'll whisper amongst themselves-
and turn my sin into a guessing game:
likely to assume that it has something
to do with porn-
married guys that go up alone always
have some sort of porn issue,
whereas married couples that go up
together usually just had a fight-
but they'd be wrong on all counts.

the altar doesn't work in the
twenty-first century,
because i have a hard enough time
sending you an email about it,
let alone telling you over the phone,
let alone telling you over coffee,
let alone confessing it to 900 pairs
of glaring eyes-
all because i text too much,
and there just isn't an emoticon
to express how i'm really feeling.