What I've Learned So Far This Lent

• I re-read through all of my entires so far. I've done nothing but whine and complain about the same two boys on here for the past year. Why didn't anyone tell me to shut up? It's okay; I'm telling myself to shut up about it and get over it. I have much bigger things to worry about than why a boy doesn't or does like me. Like say, oh, I don't know, working my way into Heaven? No boy is going to do that for me. 
• Letting go has been surprisingly easy. But I'm guessing that's if you don't count all the time leading up to lent. But seriously, it's like a burden has been lifted.
• I had an a-ha moment the other day when reading a Catholic Single Girl Dating Guide. To paraphrase, "the physical intensity of the relationship should match the emotional intensity of the relationship." Seems like a no brainer, but whoa! No one has ever explained it to me like that before. Totally takes care of that awkward 3rd date, must kiss you good night thing and hopefully take you home thing. After three dates, I definitely am not that emotionally invested in a guy to kiss him, much less anything else. 
• I made an internet friend who's Catholic. (Yes, it's come to making internet Catholic friends). He's recently brought up some very good points on free will which I've had a week to ponder, and I still need to ponder more. But it was basically another a-ha moment of sorts. 
• I'm not buying the house, but we did work out a sweet deal where we get to rent it if this last potential buyer says no.
• I've often thought I'm stuck out in the middle of Catholic nowhere for the simple fact that I'm supposed to provide a good Catholic example to my friends who aren't religious. And in fact, the other day, when talking about our trip to New Orleans, my friends suggested I go to confession in the traditional style confessional in New Orleans and go to mass. My not religious friends suggested this as something fun for us to do in New Orleans. And they also joke all the time that if anything ever goes wrong with me, "No penicillin. Call a priest." And I know they aren't poking fun; they're being sincere in a funny way. 

So, it hasn't really been a traditional type lent for me, but I'm amazed at the things I'm giving up. Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ. 

Here's Your Sign.

I am an idiot. 

And gutted. 

But you pick up and move on.

And I'm getting really good at doing just that. 

You Can't Go Home Again.

I know you're not supposed to talk about what you gave up for Lent (that whole humility thing), but since this is mainly an online diary for me, and I'm one of those types that has to think things through on paper or else I don't think at all, so I need to talk about it.

I gave up the incessant search for a boyfriend. I've given it up several times before to no avail. This Lent, I made that my intention. Oddly enough, it's only increased the amount of boys who want to talk to me. And granted, I am going on dates, I'm not really worried or looking for a boyfriend. Moreover, no boy really catches my eye or interest. Several nice dates, nice boys, but not a one who just makes me laugh, takes my breath away, understands my stupid obsession with silly bands and The Hunger Games.

Moreover, I gave up on boys to discern about my current vocation - about whether I'm supposed to stay in Mississippi or go and leave it all behind. It's looking like my hopes of the missions are just pipe dreams as my job seems to be quickly heading towards full time work, and I might be buying a house with my roommate. Might is the key operating word there. It kinda scares me. What if I'm tied down here forever? Then again, everyone (from MS) who leaves, always comes back here. They get homesick. Would that happen to me? Or would I be ok with the city and not eaten by the wolves? And on an unrelated note...

Tonight, while sitting on our couches, my roommate and I were talking about the blind date I went on and some other petty drama that people are trying to cause with us. Ireland, if you recall, apologized. We've talked a few times since then, and it's so obvious we both want to hang out and pick up where we left off. But how can we? His ex-girlfriend still makes it a point to meddle in my affairs a year later. An entire year later, she still can't let it go. An entire year later, he and I finally talk again. I told my roommate Ireland also sent word that he apologized to her, to which she replied, "I cannot and will not forgive him for lying to me, and for lying to you and having to watch you hurt after what he did." I can understand that.

Still, if I ever see him out, and I'm sure I know the answer to this, but I just want to ask him, "If you could take that night back, would you? If you could take it all back, and let's just start all over again, would you?" I know his and my answer would be yes. But you can't go home again.

Thing is, I still care about him, and I would still date him in spite of everything. I don't know if that's stupid or forgiving. Maybe it's a little of both. But all I know is he's the only person who's made me laugh so hard it hurt to smile. He's the only boy who's waited on me hand and foot. He's the only boy who's ever made me feel like I was special, like I was rare and something to be treasured and treated with respect. And maybe he's a pipe dream too, just like the missions.

Maybe that's what this Lent is all about, learning to let go of things that I hold on to for way too long or situations I can't control. But what's the difference between that and hope? Whatever the answers to these questions are, I do know this: you can't go home again, but oh, how I wish we could.