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My best friend and I were talking the other night about God, and about whether or not he (she or it) exists. Reflecting on that conversation today made me start to think about heaven.

If heaven really exists, what must it be like? No one has really hung out there and then come back to tell her friends about it, so I much doubt it would be like it is portrayed in movies, all clouds with grapes and harps. One common belief is that heaven is what your heart most desires and treasures. I’m pretty sure that what my heart desires is different from what your heart wants; we’re all individuals, right?

I love music. I can get caught up in a song and transported somewhere else. Music inspires such emotion in me. Maybe my heaven is all those songs, played back to back without end, moving me from place to place and feeling to feeling. Sort of a cosmic iPod.

I’m always cold in the office. I like to be warm. Maybe my heaven is like crawling into a warm bed, with those expensive 1000 thread count sheets and a heavy down comforter. The smell of vanilla from the candle on the nightstand. The sound of ocean waves crashing on the beach, or a gentle rain falling. An endless sleep in the embrace of the best bed ever.

Orgasms are pretty good, let’s be honest with ourselves. Could my heaven be one never-ending super-intense orgasm? On second thought, the post-coital bliss feels really great too. Not sure how that would work out then. Limitless rounds of sex? With no time to recharge my batteries, no pillow talk? No way.

I think about these things. They don’t keep me up at night, but I do think about them.