Queuing Up for Rest (Subtitle: Lining up for Rest)

First of all: doesn't the word queue sound infinitely less stressful and annoying than line? Thats one of the things I loved about London: Waiting in a queue was always a relaxing and phonetically pleasing event. It was in no way geometrically severe or threatening.
Anyway....
I like to think that the afterlife is a world of answers. I haven't always thought this...I used to have a very clear cut idea of heaven and hell. There's that whole Catholic thing again. But somewhere between confirmation and the present day, everything became really fuzzy. Shit got really crazy when I started dating. I wish I could think of a way to say that without giving those guys so much credit, but there isn't. My conception of the afterlife was changed one "Mr. Right Now" after the other.
In the beginning it was just a bunch of angels and pearly white gates--typical. Now, I don't need a heavenly, ethereal place. I don't think I want, nor do I think that I rank high enough on the scale of human goodness to merit such a paradise. All I really want are answers. I want to finish all that unfinished business before my soul hunkers down in a bean bag chair for eternal rest. I want to hear the motivations of those who "loved" me and left me, of those who mistreated me, or of those who just left me curious. Wouldn't it be the ultimate relief to enter a realm, only as a soul--unencumbered with the baggage of image, pride, circumstance and context....a place where you were presented with a line of similarly uninhibited and recognizable souls, all readied with an explanation, apology or a declaration of love?