To boldly (and prayerfully) go where no one has gone before.

This is what happens when you break up with someone after seriously dating for 8 months:

1. You go through the always awkward/painful ritual of giving back each others things (trade back his Jesuit book for your Oliver Sacks book).

2. You make the unsettling (and somehow more official) move to remove your relationship status on Facebook.

3. You perform the really discombobulating "last goodbye" as he walks you to your car and you realize as you drive away, you won't be back.

4. Finally, you have the moment when you wake up the day after and realize that no, it wasn't a nightmare, you really did just break up with your heart and somehow the world is still turning.

What follows next is assumed from the standard protocol I've witnessed since watching and experiencing adult dating: once those rituals are complete, you typically don't encounter "the ex" ever again. At least not on purpose.

And that's it. You break up, navigate the socially awkward goodbye scene, and you're done.

That is standard protocol, unless of course you are Random.

Random never has, nor will he probably ever, follow standard protocol, something I appreciate and admire in him.

But because of this difference in Random, I find myself navigating a place I've never been before: The Land of Staying Friends After a Break Up.

When I say "staying friends", I don't just mean acting polite but distant when you happen to bump into them at Whole Foods while buying groceries. When I say "staying friends", at least where Random is concerned, I mean building and maintaining a real, honest friendship that involves talking and platonic hang outs.

Dangerous territory? Quite possibly. Uncommon? Sure. Potentially confusing? You betcha.

Alas, Random and I were nothing if not adventurous (okay, he is adventurous, and I'm just impulsive and prideful enough to accept a challenge), and it seems even after the end of "us", we're not much different. And so we're accepting the challenge of being friends despite the emotional baggage, allowing for the baggage to be present, but choosing to work around it for the possible fruit good friendship can often bear.

So where does that leave us? Charting unexplored territory very slowly, very prayerfully and with the hope that God will lead us where He will.

I'm not sure where this will take us, but if our previous dialogues are anything to go by, I'm just thankful for the spiritual fruit, emotional healing and clarity I've gained so far.

No matter what happens, we are in God's hands, and at the end of another day in unfamiliar territory, that's where I place my trust. In His hands, we're never without guidance.

Only the lonely.

[Originally written 5/14/12] It’s the loneliness that gets me. In the beginning, I woke up with it and went to sleep with it every night. It was there as soon as I stopped focusing on work or too many social events or money issues. It was confusing at first, because well, I guess it never left completely, even when Random was around. You see, loneliness followed him, too; though sometimes when we were really in love, it took a break from pestering us. We could breathe, really breathe, in those moments.

But now that the biggest tidal wave of the grief has passed, the slower waves are breaking. Sometimes I’ll go whole days without loneliness, if I work really hard at it. Then some days, I’ll dream of how things used to be, and it's right back to haunt me. Or when I'm alone and no one really knows where I am, and if I were to be eaten alive by feral cats in my parking lot, no one would know for a couple days... the lonely gets loud then, too.

The absurdity of that last scenario distracts from the underlying truth:

I can’t stand the lonely.

It’s suffocating. It makes me tense up and want to run. Where I would go, I have no clue. I guess that’s why I love reading so much: I can escape, however briefly, the lonely that lurks around.

We were not made to be alone. When I’m alone all I can see are the people around me who are not alone. (Jealousy is very close to loneliness. Second cousins maybe. I hate it, too.)

Perhaps the loneliness I feel, that we're all prone to feel at times, is the result of forgetting what's inside us. God's presence is with us always, even in the darkest of moments. If we truly believe and trust that God dwells within us, who are we to fear such a small thing as loneliness?

It's only loneliness. It's only pain. It's only suffering. It's really an opportunity to cling to God with all our might and remember that in the end, He is all that matters.

"Yet it is in this loneliness that the deepest activities begin. It is here that you discover act without motion, labor that is profound repose, vision in obscurity, and, beyond all desire, a fulfillment whose limits extend to infinity."

- Thomas Merton

Love and pain.

Peace. Happiness. Fulfillment. Love. These are all the things we yearn for, strive for. These are the things that we push for whether we realize it or not. Freud may have been wrong about many things but he was right about this: all humans seek pleasure and avoid pain. It's natural, right? Who wants to be unhappy, broken or lost?

Unfortunately for us, life isn't always sunshine and roses. Sometimes (or a lot of times) life is full of the very things we hate: pain, heartache, loss, and uncertainty. We can question why - why must I hurt? Why must my life be filled with misery? Why me? But really, shouldn't we be asking ourselves why not me?

The truth is, pain in life is inevitable and unavoidable. Sure you could curl up in a hole somewhere and hope that nothing terrible befalls you. You could sit waiting for the bad things to pass, and tell yourself, "Well, when things get better I'll finally start living." But if we waited until circumstances were perfect to go out and embrace the daily gift of life, we miss the whole point. Life isn't about being happy or free from pain. Life is about loving. Life is about giving. We learn to love despite the pain; we learn to give despite the fear. Besides, in pain there is always the joy that comes with uniting our suffering with Christ's. There is no pain we have that He hasn't also endured. And He endures it willingly and lovingly. Aren't we called to do the same for Him?

Pain and heartache will come and go, that much is certain. But the joy and peace of Christ is ever-present, if we only choose to hope in Him.

Where hope would otherwise become hopelessness, it becomes faith. ~Robert Brault

Pro's and a con of dating Catholic guys.

There are many pro's to dating a hardcore Catholic man. Going to mass together, going to adoration together, saying a rosary together, having late-night discussions about theology and Church teachings... all beautiful and blessed things to do with your significant other. While I dated Random (obvious name change here), he surrounded me with faith, buying me my first crucifix, teaching to me out of the catechism, and even doing a stations of the cross with me in the candle-lit chapel at St. Louis, with no one else around. This man knew his faith and was proud to profess it. He was everything a Catholic girl like me could ever hope for.

But there is one downside to dating a Catholic man, and that downside comes in the form of discernment. True Catholic men know how to discern and they discern well; Random was no exception. He was so good at discernment, in fact, that he broke up with me, something I didn't really appreciate at the time. I ranted and argued with him about it, actually. This mostly-hardcore Catholic girl suddenly wished with everything she had that Random was not as hardcore Catholic as he was. Because you see, he ended it something like this, "I love you, but don't feel called to marry you." Um, ouch? Excuse me while I scoop my heart off the floor and try to figure out how to regain the use of my vocal chords... Seriously, how on earth does anyone argue with that? What could I say, "Oh, well God is wrong on this one" or "You need to wash out your ears and listen again"? I could do nothing but watch in awe as this man walked away from love because he felt God was calling him to. That takes faith that I still don't understand.

While grieving the loss of Random is painful and confusing and not exactly how I want to spend my free time, at least I know that his decision was somehow rooted in God. And okay, I admit that being good at discernment isn't a downside at all. It's a blessing that I'm sure I'll come to appreciate once I grow a new heart and get through this incredibly awesome (not) post-breakup season.

Moral of this blog? Dating good Catholic men is the way to go, even if it doesn't turn out the way you want in the end.

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long." - Pablo Neruda

It is the pain endures.

There are worst things than breakups. For example, I'm sure a zombie apocalypse would be much worse, with all the brain eating and zombie slaying. Or I imagine getting kidnapped by evil, scurvy-riddled pirates would be pretty unpleasant. But when you're in the middle of a breakup, that's about the worst scenario you can imagine - you can't really see past your own misery. When it feels as if your heart has fallen out and you're walking around, nothing but a raw bundle of nerves and confusion, it's hard to focus on anything else.

I went to the doctor today because not only did I get broken up with, I am also sick. Hey, go big or go home right? Anyway, I went to the doctor, telling him I was coughing so much my chest ached. He listened to me breathe and said my lungs were inflamed and infected. He said he could tell breathing was difficult for me right now. Yeah, no kidding. I wanted to tell him it was my heart's fault. It must have irritated its two breathing neighbors while it broke out and made its hasty escape. I still had hope my heart would come back, but until then some medication might be nice, seeing as how breathing is necessary to life and all.

This reminds me of the time I prayed for God to "help me see" sometime last year. I should have been clear and asked him to help me see his will, but alas I left it at that. Then later that week I got an infection in BOTH eyes. Felt like I could relate to Tobit a bit after that, minus the birds and short-term blindness of course. But now as I'm coping with the reality of my lost love-life, it seems acute bronchitis is really just a manifestation of my missing heart, the physical pain reminding me of the very real absence of the man I love. As if I needed a physical reminder of the emotional pain I'm experiencing. Thanks body.

Seriously though, when I'm not shaking my fist at God in frustration at the seeming injustice of this week, I see that underneath it all it's making me realize my complete and total dependence on Him. He is my true light and true love. He is my everything. And at the end of another day of heartbreak, it's nice to know I haven't lost it all. Love is ever-present, and I will find it again.

"When my heart is breaking, I never leave Your hands." - JJ Heller

Dancing around the box.

So, I'm taking a class this semester called "Psychodrama". Never has one class ever described me so succinctly. I love it! Anyway, part of the course requirement is that I have to write about class each week... keep a journal of sorts. I decided that I would blog instead, because this class is bound to have some amazingly awkward, interesting moments that I really shouldn't hog to myself. I mean, we danced around a box while listening to "The Saints Go Marching In" on the first day of class. We also renamed ourselves and screamed in a circle. Not necessarily in that order (actually I can't remember what order that occurred in... too much peyote. KIDDING).

I really think this class will be invigorating. It's going to be fun to be free and silly and spontaneous inside the same room that I used to do case staffings last semester. Last semester the room was filled with food, paperwork, Tylenol, coffee cups, and our semi-faithful computer equipment. This semester, all the tables are gone, the ceiling lights have been replaced with stage lamps, the chairs sit in a circle and we don't use any computers. All we have are our voices, our thoughts and each other.

We'll see what happens...

Brand new start.

I just finished reading “The Zahir” by Paulo Coelho and it talks about an interesting idea… It says how sometimes we have to tell our story over and over until we can let it go, until we don’t need it to define us anymore. We need to get comfortable with it, find the resolution, and let it be. We have to stop allowing our old stories trap us into the characters we used to be; we have to let go of the old storyline and become who we were meant to be (also, I can't seem to stop typing 'to be'). Sounds simple enough, but I know it’s not. It’s about as simple as ripping my own heart from my chest, burying it, and growing a new one.

But all growth is pain, and any major change for the good is hard. I know this, yet I've been living my whole life as if someone guaranteed it was supposed to be easy. Where on earth did I get that idea?