I have written in these pages before how years ago I wrestled with my deep desire to become a Trappist; how it nagged at my heart for years; and how I eventually applied to Gethsemani Abbey and went on long retreats where I did little more than bounce off the walls and think about girls.
I never felt at home there, never felt at peace. Still, when I was away from there, back home at my job, that place was all I thought about. But every time I went there, awful.
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