update from sparkleup
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Madison Scott-Clary
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<p><em>6:16 PM Kay></em> Oh, the black one. Total hot priest vibes. You just have to wear that and call everyone “my child” or whatever and the girls will be all over you.</p>
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<p>Gears crunched to a halt in my mind. I must have sat there, staring at that message, for several minutes, trying to parse out just how much of it might have been serious.</p>
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<p><em>6:21 PM Kay></em> Sorry, that was probably pretty insensitive…</p>
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<p>I rubbed my hands over my snout before replying:</p>
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<p>I rubbed my paws over my snout before replying:</p>
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<p><em>6:25 PM Dee></em> No no! Just never really thought about “hot priest” being a thing.</p>
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<p><em>6:25 PM Kay></em> You’re just not on the right parts of the internet.</p>
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<p>The conversation wound down from there, so now I’m writing up my journal and turning Kay’s words over and over in my head. They fit strangely into my image of myself. ‘Hot priest’? ‘Girls all over me’? There isn’t a universe in which either of these things is true. I am no judge of how attractive I am and have never bothered to ask, but the idea of a priest being sexy makes my head ache. They are two completely separate concepts in my mind, a Venn diagram with no overlap.</p>
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<p>I can see it being acceptable, except for the fact that a core aspect of my life is missing from hers. Me, Dee, the one who was on track to be Father Kimana. Visible or not, that is a divide that can only be bridged and never filled.</p>
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<p>Oh, and should we have children, would they be raised Catholic? Would they be baptized? Would they attend mass and their mother not?</p>
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<p>I can see it being acceptable, but I can also see it being an awful lot of work for the both of us.</p>
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<p>Where are the compromises? Where are the fights? Where are we twenty, thirty, forty years down the line? Do we make it twenty, thirty, forty years? Are we so fit for each other than we can manage that?</p>
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<p>Where are the compromises? Where are the fights? Where are we twenty, thirty, forty years down the line? Do we make it twenty, thirty, forty years? Are we so fit for each other that <a href="we.html">we</a> can manage that?</p>
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<p>Before, when limerence filled me to overflowing, I imagined in dreamy yeses and delicate physicality. Now that that has faded and left something else in its place, I imagine in questions. I imagine in what-ifs and is-it-actuallys.</p>
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<p>In the end, though, I hope that this is better. More, I <em>believe</em> that it is better, this numbness that has taken its place. I believe it must be, because if there is one sensation that I can liken to this numbness, these imaginings, these feelings and emotions, it is healing.</p>
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<p>Trite? Sure, but limerence was an unwieldy mass that laid claim to me, and, even at its best, I was opposed to that claim. I am healing from the wounds that it left when it dug its claws into me, when it was removed and left that hole where once it was.</p>
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<hr />
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-08-02</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-03</p>
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<p>“I don’t think you have a choice, bud,” he laughed. “The stuff you sent me was you doing your best to process all of this, and I could see the work taking place. You just admitted the work will continue, so, yeah, keep it up. And anyway, you talk about your advisor saying that he would have been concerned if you <em>were</em> losing your faith, and Kay says that you writing her an email to tell her how you feel is the most you thing ever. I think you’re basically stuck journaling.”</p>
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<p>It was my turn to laugh. “Right, right, okay. I’ll keep it up, then.”</p>
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<p>“And hey, you can pull a lot of your thoughts on discernment and such out into a book or hell, clean these up and turn them into a memoir. It’s not like this stuff is useful to only you.”</p>
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<p>That’s been lingering with me, but I remain unsure. I could, yes, and maybe it would provide some sort of entertainment, but that would mean going through and editing everything up. Even just the process of transferring notes from paper to computer so that I could email them to Jeremy had been rough enough, being confronted by that Dee of a few months back, struggling with the most basic language of actually liking someone.</p>
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<p>That’s been lingering with me, but I remain unsure. I could, yes, and maybe it would provide some sort of entertainment, but that would mean going through and editing everything up<sup id="fnref:footnotes"><a class="footnote-ref" href="#fn:footnotes">1</a></sup>. Even just the process of transferring notes from paper to computer so that I could email them to Jeremy had been rough enough, being confronted by that Dee of a few months back, struggling with the most basic language of actually liking someone.</p>
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<p>I do agree with the first point that Jeremy made, though. I really ought to keep journaling. It’s good for me, and I don’t think I could ever really stop, after going through this.</p>
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<p>So, yes. The work continues.</p>
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<p>Kay broached the subject of stopping by UI Sawtooth for a concert some day and spending a bit of time together. The doors to friendship remain open, and I don’t imagine that it will be <em>intolerably</em> awkward, but it will still present challenges. Would hugging be too awkward? Should we spend the whole trip together much like we did the last one?</p>
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<p>As the next step of my <em>spiritual</em> discernment, I have reached out to the parish priest about offering free mental health counseling to less fortunate members of the congregation or those who stop by the mission the church runs in town and he is going to set up a meeting with the bishop of the diocese to see if there’s space for such in a church-sanctioned context. I think that I would be happy enough to volunteer such on my own. It’s not the spiritual counseling that I had once planned on after my undergrad, but it is something far more in my area of expertise and comfort zone.</p>
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<p>All these things are part of the work, though. Work is part of life, and life goes on. I still see my clients. I still watch videos and talk about my days with Kay. I still go to mass. I still think about the past year when I write. I still get rides out to the edge of Sawtooth or over to a trail head and walk until my feet ache and I am gasping in the pine-scented, dusty air.</p>
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<p>And still I talk with God.</p>
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<div class="footnote">
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<hr />
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<ol>
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<li id="fn:footnotes">
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<p>I already felt compelled to add all of these foot notes, after all. <a class="footnote-backref" href="#fnref:footnotes" title="Jump back to footnote 1 in the text">↩</a></p>
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</li>
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</ol>
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</div>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-08-02</p>
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<p>Page generated on 2021-09-03</p>
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</footer>
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</main>
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