Diocesan Seminary

After my time with the Legionaries of Christ religious order but before I went to regular university, I gave the diocesan seminary life a try for one year. It was a strange year, and I don't spend much time thinking about this period of my life— probably because I don't have the safety of distance to dive into it. I'll still give it a try.

The diocesan life was a far cry from Legionary life. I could own a cellphone, call my family and friends whenever, and the schedule was not so rigid. The time spent in Church was not so strenuous, and we had more freedom to make our own decisions. The seminary I attended was unique as it was on a college campus, so I was around girls in a classroom setting for the first time since middle school. It was in diocesan seminary that I learned all of my sexual humor and how to swear like a sailor. A priest there told me that masturbating was no big deal. We had time to play video games and could spend time on campus with fellow students.

I appreciate that this seminary was forward-thinking. It wasn't trying to trap anyone into becoming a priest, and I was not used to this or the general amount of freedom. It was refreshing. Our school uniform—polo, khakis, and nice shoes—was more relaxed than the cassock and sash expected as a Legionary. Outside of classes and prayer time, my day was mine. As a Legionary, even "free time" was scheduled with activities. Meals were half decent, and on my 21st birthday my seminarian brothers took me to bdubs for my first beer: a crisp, blue moon.

It was in seminary classes that I fell in love for the first time. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and full of life; and I would watch her in Chemistry class like a creep. One day I  shuffled, stuttered, and finally blurted out, "can I have your number"? She laughed, probably noticing my blushing face and general awkwardness, but she gave me her number. I invited her to study either that same day or a day after, and I remember we sat across from each other, leaning our backs on the bench pillars. Her hair was wet, and the sun caught it perfectly. I was obsessed.

I would go on long walks with her to a pond near the university. We held hands despite the fact that she had a boyfriend at another school, but I was so innocent I didn't consider this more than platonic affection. One time she skipped to the bench and I remember marveling at her joy. One time she sang for me at a park bench. A few times, as I would say goodbye and head back to the seminary for evening prayer, I would sit on this one hill crying over the fact that I was called to be a priest. And then I'd wipe away the tears and go pray. I looked for every chance I could to spend time with this girl. 

Near the end of my first full school year, I told my spiritual director about this girl and how I was spending all my time on campus with her. He kindly told me that I had never had a real college experience in my life, and perhaps that would do me some good. So I decided to leave the seminary life. On the second-to-last day of the school year, I approached this girl and told her I really liked her and that I was leaving seminary. She started crying. I don't remember what she said after, but I remember feeling like this was a good thing and that she was mine. The next day was weird as we all said goodbyes and her friends seemed to look at me differently— as if she had told them I liked her. 

I got home from seminary and texted her a lot, but her texts became less frequent. Finally I called her on the phone and asked her if she was okay, and she said, "Spencer, I'm so sorry, but I think I'm going to marry my boyfriend".