"Wilson!"

I hate that I've been keeping so much inside for so long.

I've turned into a full-fledged internet voyeur of my own friends. If there's anything I've realized from these first, few and scattered posts, I care a lot more about the people in my life than I've been willing to admit. I care about what they're doing (which right now can generally be summed up with one word: "procreating"), I care enough to stalk Facebook for updates about a few precious few (no general stalking for me... I keep an eye on my favs), but mostly, I'm sad and scared that because of the changes in my life and the changes in their lives that we are evolving away from each other. As natural as that may be, once again I find myself writing over a breaking heart.

I had hoped that attending a seriously Catholic law school would provide me with support and structure as I returned to my faith. At first, it seemed to be helping. The journey's been arduous, but I've always felt like a Catholic -- I've always felt pulled back to the Mass and appreciated the structure and practice for what it is. I never expected that I would leave AMSL feeling more distant and lost in my faith, particularly after meeting so many Catholic women, men, and couples who I admire and respect for reasons that go beyond what "good Catholics" they are. What I've particularly loved about the Catholic faith (as I've experienced it through practice -- I make zero claim to know my catechism or the teachings of the Church as well as anyone else).. what I've particularly loved are the themes of forgiveness and communion. In the aftermath of my divorce, graduating from law school, and moving to a place where I only know a few people and am hundreds to thousands of miles from most friends and family, I feel like a raft floating away from a cruise ship. The funny thing about communion as interpreted to me by some of my Catholic friends from AMSL (not all, but many) is that if you're not doing things THE way -- THE only way -- then you're out of communion with the Church (and its body of members). Catholics can be rough friends to have when they have that perspective. I feel like a bunch of those friends are on that cruise ship and waving at me. They fully acknowledge that I'm on the raft and drifting away. They may chalk it up to my stubbornness, my "fallen"-ness, or some other act of my will... after all, I divorced my husband. I chose to not stay with him and pray it out and work it out and have babies now (the count is up to 17 couples of friends who are pregnant with/have given birth to their 1st or 2nd child)... Occasionally one sends me a little personalized redemption map or suggestion. Those almost hurt more. I wonder if I frustrate them. I wonder if they care enough for me to frustrate them. I wonder if they want to know me anymore. I wonder if they're biding their time until my raft has drifted far enough that they can stop waving because they can't see me anymore. I wonder if they know that the raft gets to small to see long before the cruise ship does -- that I'll still see them, together in marriage, parenthood, gainful employment, and faithfulness, long after they've turned their backs on me.

***

I hardly meant this to be a "woe is me" rant... my original intent was to allow myself the opportunity to get this out of my brain... I know I treat this blog like a pensieve. If I get these feelings out, they aren't free to wrap tightly around my heart or clog my brain.

To be fair, I'm really happy in a lot of other areas of my life. I am in love with my soulmate. I'm sure of it (that's right.. the official introduction of my HB) :) I've healed so many old wounds in the past year that I've never felt like a stronger person, and I've been able to give and receive so much more out of a loving relationship.

I missed passing the bar by 7 points. After all that I went through last summer, I'm surprised I made it through the test. I'm studying much better this time, and I've learned to appreciate my failing(s) and face them head on -- from no longer being afraid to fail a practice test, to not being (too) afraid to love someone again. I'm not afraid of standing up to my mother, or backing off from her when I'm wrong. I'm not afraid of giving people what I can, or letting them go when they do. I'm not afraid of my feelings getting the best of me again and dragging me into a scary place where I'm afraid of going to sleep at night or being awake during the day.

So much has changed in the last year. While my friends are embracing the gift of parenthood, I'm still growing up. Someday, I'll make a great mom -- surely a better one because of all this than I would've been if I'd stayed on the cruise ship. Certainly, I'm worried I'll lose the best of them due to our natural divide. They're all having babies, with their spouses. I'm missing both of those things. I don't know if I'll be able to fairly expect my best friends to get excited about the events in my life when they have a family. The saddest part is, I'm not even a little jealous. I like being in the best shape of my life. I love being in the early stages of my relationship with the man of my dreams. I love that I'm looking for my first place ON MY OWN (something a lot of my friends have never and will likely never experience). I know that I have what they have coming for me... so there's nothing to be jealous about. I am sad, though. I'm sad that it seems like they're ALL there now. I'm at least 2 years from being engaged again, let alone married. I probably won't have my first kid until their kids are in kindergarten... if I'm lucky. They'll get to bond over all these things -- learning together -- sharing horror and beautiful stories about diapers and strollers and teething and sleeping and spit and smiles. They've all moved on from the adults-only world, and despite the fact that I LOVE them and their children, I can't empathize, and so often they seem to feel compelled to say things to me like,"Oh, but you'll be a GREAT mom someday," and "Don't worry... it'll happen" (Double duh) or "have a margarita for me" (I drink one drink a month, maybe now, and I certainly don't drink other people's drinks for them) or "I'll just have to live vicariously through you now" (why? you have a wonderful husband and beautiful baby... oh wait... you're lying... you don't want my life. You want your life, as you should), or, my favorite result of having mostly Catholic friends -- "....(long pause).... I want you to know I'm/we're praying for you" (always appreciated, never important that I know about it... I don't think God requires me being put on notice before he answers your prayers about me).

Maybe these wedges I feel are all in my imagination... maybe it's the winter cold and my love affair with flashcards. I can hope, but I can't deny that I can't even be sure the people on the shrinking cruise ship are still waving.