Archive for the ‘Priestly Celibacy’ Category

The Name

June 7, 2017

I learned it. I repeated it over and over again. There was no way of getting enough of it. His name was like a drug I had to have or else I would explode. It was the only name that existed, that had ever existed. Walking down the street, going to buy groceries, watching TV somehow I would hear it and everything stopped. My body sensed an electric shock. I loved that man. I loved knowing he was near me, that I could see him anytime I wanted to. He belonged to me. He belonged to my heart.




March 28, 2017


This isn’t happening. It is not supposed to happen. You and I are standing by ourselves within 2 or 3 feet from one another. We don’t dare to get close. We feel, but we shouldn’t feel. I don’t dare walk to where you are. I could pretend that I need to ask you something, but if I do, my eyes would tell you things you don’t want to know. There is no one. You are the dream of my life. There is no other.







October 17, 2016


The ink for the printer, the paper to print out the book, the time spent writing it, the time slaving over the computer, writing with the finger of one hand. It was my life. The book was my life. It still is. The passion could be heard in of. She had said these things many times before. She had spoken with deep emotion in her voice. She cared. She would always care, even after she was dead. The experience which led to the writing of my novel changed my life forever. I have written other things about subjects that were meaningful to me, but nothing is as important as telling the story of a young woman discovering herself on a desperate journey far away, to a country that she left long ago. She is a stranger in that country. She’s lived elsewhere, with different people, different habits. But in this other country, she feels again. She is alive as she has never been alive. She feels young. She stops dressing like an old lady. The young woman falls in love with someone she thinks she can’t have. The man in question is a priest. Priests can’t be lovers, boyfriends or husbands.


September 25, 2016


I don’t remember; it is blurry and not clear. I can’t see your face in my mind anymore. It’s gone. But the feelings, those will remain in me forever. The way my legs would hurry as I walked towards you, how my heart would pound when I looked at you; the redness in my face if you happened to glance at me. These memories have faces. They have skin and bones. It is my heart. My heart has been so stubborn all these years. I met you; nothing was what it had been. I had no map, no way to discern what I was experiencing, not at first. Sometime later I pieced it all together and I knew. Something in you responded to something in me. You were it.







The Door

August 30, 2016

The Door

The door was large. It was wide open. The sun shone on the tile floors. She stood by the entrance, near the brick wall. Was he going to come? Was he going to show up this afternoon? She couldn’t wait much longer. What if someone saw her? What would she say if an acquaintance asked her? Mass wouldn’t be starting for another 3 hours. She’d take the risk. She’d simply say that she had to tell him something about the Legion of Mary, something like that. Making something up wasn’t quite right, but she didn’t care. The last time she had seen him was almost 2 weeks ago. It was an eternity. She didn’t like eternities. A man opened one of the other doors, by the altar. She made the sign of the Cross and swallowed. Her knees felt funny, as if they would betray her. She walked towards him.









I Love You

January 13, 2016

I Love You


I love you, I wanted to shout. My heart has kept this secret more or less under control for months and months. I loved you the minute I saw you. There will never be anyone else. I came here today to tell you. You didn’t want to hear it. If you could you would have told me it was best for you not to see me or the feelings so plainly written on my face. You are not free. I am well aware of that fact. I don’t expect anything from you. I never expected anything from you. You have no idea how scared I was before I walked into the parish office. I would have gone back to the house. I would have run the other way. That would have been cowardly and not worthy of the love inside me. I made my legs go towards the door; I made my hand knock not once but twice. I am so glad I did it. I faced you. I was honest. My hand opened the door for me to go outside, to the hot summer day. I stood on the curb and shivered. My shoulders made an up and down movement. I will never regret those brief moments alone with you.






July 10, 2015

Memories of him. Memories of her. Precious memories of time spent with love and affection. Moments of great passion. How much passion was to her unbelievable. The feelings of the heart that can never be forgotten. The love for him, the first real love of her life and the affection for her, her second mother. The years that have passed since these two people left her life have often been empty and unreal. She thought they would last forever, the simple pleasures of running into him, of seeing him and being near, then talking to him as if she had known him all her life. She didn’t care what he was–Forbidden or not, he was hers because she loved him. And the little old lady she lived with–the feisty black  and white haired woman. The old lady dressed in dark colors and wore moccasins. She seemed so frail, so easily destructible. When she looked at the young woman, her eyes became  alive again. They had that light in them, that special something that only affection has. That time has gone. It will never come back. But in the former young woman’s heart, the time is here. It is now, just as real as it was then, in that small town, that small world she lived for.


April 15, 2015


She stood before him, her whole body trembling. I love you, she wanted to say. I know I should not because it’s not allowed, but I love you. You are my first grown up love. The man, young and good looking, kept his eyes on the chalice. He did not dare look up at the person in front of him. She waited a few minutes; then shrugged her shoulders. As her back was turned to him on her way out, she heard him gasp. Her head made a movement as if to turn towards him. She shrugged again and pushed the big thick door open.

Help! I wanted you to help me say it! I want you to understand how I feel about you. My eyes did the talking for me. I didn’t have to do anything with words. The way I stood, the way my hands tried not to show emotion or nerves—all were more eloquent than anything I would have dared say.


May 17, 2014

A young woman. She is sitting in one of the church benches. Her eyes look at the floor. Will I see him today? Will he show up soon? I haven’t seen him since last Tuesday, a week ago. I love him. I can’t get enough of it, of being near him.

Interview questions

April 4, 2013

3. Animal abuse drives me batshit crazy. Homelessness, eviction, and poverty too. None of these should exist.

4.An unforgettable moment in my life is when I told a man that I was in love with him. He was a priest. I was scared and shaking, but I did it. I had to tell him.


  1. My dream vacation would be Hawaii. I love the sun, the smoothies, the water—everything.


  1. At age 10, I dreamed of being a writer.


  1. I would travel back in time to the 1930s. I have watched movies from the 30s and read books about that decade. I love the clothes, the way they talked—everything except the poverty.


  1. If I could transform myself into a celebrity for one day, it would be Duchess Kate of Cambridge.


  1. Fun is being free, being own self.


  1. My worst habit is being trusting and still naïve.


  1. My first current project is the screen version of my novel Different Flags. My second current project is a book about my experiences in New York City.