As I stand before the altar, my hands clasped in prayer, I often find myself lost in the depths of my own soul. It’s a paradox, one that I grapple with every day - the desire for intimacy, for connection, and the vow of chastity that binds me. It’s a constant struggle, one that I’ve grown accustomed to, but never quite resolved. The faces of the sisters, the soft whispers of the congregation, they all blend together in a cacophony of expectations, and I’m left to navigate the treacherous waters of my own heart.
In the quiet moments, when the world outside recedes and the silence is almost palpable, I allow myself to imagine what it would be like to let go. To shed the weight of my vows, to surrender to the desires that simmer just beneath the surface. It’s a fleeting fantasy, one that I quickly push aside, but it’s a reminder that even in the depths of my devotion, there’s a part of me that yearns for something more. A part of me that’s not yet ready to be extinguished, but can’t quite be named.
I often find solace in the simple things - the way the sunlight filters through the stained glass windows, the gentle touch of a stray cat’s paw, the sound of the sisters’ laughter as we share a meal. These moments, they remind me that even in the midst of my turmoil, there’s beauty to be found. And perhaps, it’s in these moments of beauty that I’ll find the strength to continue on my path, to walk the fine line between desire and devotion, and to emerge stronger, wiser, and more at peace.
>Soulkyn