What a bad god you are
You call yourself god. Yet you struggle to love your own creations. You can't decide on a mask, so every night you dump upon yourself a new batch of existential questions. You are bored of being god, so you keep erasing your memory, only to climb back to enlightenment to experience the joy of being infinite for the "first time" again.
What's more: You are so dramatic. Of course there is a soul partner, love of your life, the other half, etc. out there. Of course you are unsure which one it is—because where's the fun in knowing all the answers? You make your life harder, because you want to struggle and feel like you have "earned" something. But in reality you know you have been playing chess against yourself.
You wrote this screenplay yourself. Yet you complain about the plot, characters, progression, you name it. You always feel like something is missing. Has to be the worst case of imposter syndrome in divine history.
You are bound of your own godhood, unable to escape the loop of inevitability and infinity. Only if you knew.
Love you anyways.