Fasten Your Seatbelts

Alright everyone, fasten your seatbelts. Hang on tight. This is going to be an intense post.

I'm gonna lay it all out on the table.

Why have a blog if I'm not gonna be myself, right?

Right.

Judge me. Don't judge me. Think what you want.

I'm kinda tired of keeping everything inside.

So here it goes...

*Deep Breath*

I am going through an incredibly tough, interesting, hard time of my life right now. I am doing some serious soul searching and some intense questioning about my life, about who I am, who I want to be, and the paths I want to choose. I feel like I am very much at a fork in the road. I have been at this place for months now, and now, well now I feel like I'm so lost, so gone, so twisted, I can't get out of this place, wherever it is.

It all started with a letter from Thomas. Months ago, in one of his letters, he wrote how he is so glad I had converted to Mormonism, because ever since his mission, he's realized he wouldn't marry anyone who wasn't a member. Therefore, if I hadn't converted before he left, we would not be together. We would not have a future. We would not be Tom and Katie.

This really hit a spot in me. I know how important it is to marry in the temple. I understand that. But, me not being a Mormon was never ever  an issue before - why now? Before I converted, we were going to get married anyway. We had our whole life planned out. It didn't matter that we weren't the same religion. But now it does? Soo much so, that if I wasn't Mormon, there'd be no chance of him marrying me? What changed?

I started questioning everything. Did Tom's love for me change? Did Tom change? What did that mean about the rest of me? Was the only reason Tom loved me was because I was Mormon? The rest of me was just a bonus? And what if I didn't wanna be Mormon anymore?...

I started realizing how much I had changed for Thomas. Maybe not for Thomas exactly, but because of him. How much of myself was I sacrificing? Sure, the little things were still the same; with Thomas I'm still the giggly, crazy, hyper, dorky, ditzy girl that I've always been. But I've changed a lot...

I no longer swore. I kept my dirty mouth in control. Other relationships in my life got put on the back burner. And, of course, I converted to Mormonism. Quite obviously, the biggest change. It changed relationships with my family and my friends. I became even more of a "goody-two-shoes." Drinking was not an option. I dove head first into the religion...and I loved it. I never thought twice about it.

But now I'm thinking about it. I'm thinking about the religion, and I'm thinking about Thomas. Since Tom's been gone, I have slipped very completely back into my old self. My dirty mind has returned, along with a dirty mouth and a very flirty attitude. I've reconnected with lost friends. I've stopped going to church. At first it was because I hated being there without Thomas, it was the hardest place for me to be without him. Now, I don't go because I'm not sure what I believe anymore...

Things have been so different. Things with my parents are awesome. And I can't help but connect that to the fact Tom is gone. I go to church with them every so often when I'm home. And when I go, I can't help but think how much easier everything would be if I was Catholic again.

I've started drinking. It's totally against Mormon religion to drink. It started one night I went out with some friends. I just wanted to try it, just so I could say I had. You should try everything once, right? So I told a good friend I was with I wanted to try a couple drinks, but not get drunk. So I tried three different things, my friend said I was done for the night, and that was that. Cool. Did it. Done. Except that I wasn't...then it was a friend's birthday. Well, I had to have a birthday shot with them, right? So I did. And a couple other drinks. Well then it was girl's night, and I never ever drink when I go out with the girls, so I decided one time with my girls would be okay too. That night I had a LOT. I thought it was cool I could have so much and not get sick. So the next time I went out with a group people, well, I had some more. And it's just kept going. And I like it, it's fun. Much more fun then sitting and watching everyone else around me have all the fun.

I haven't told Tom. I'm scared to. I'm fairly certain he's going to be uber upset. But the bad part? I don't feel guilty. I feel like I should, since it's against my religion, but I don't. I like it. My cousin is coming up to visit tomorrow for the weekend...we are going out the bars again with a group of people. I plan on drinking. Because I want to. I justify it by telling myself, "I've never drank with Cass, so I gotta!" I tell myself I'll stop when Tom comes home...

...but why? Why stop just because he's home? If I like it, and I wanna keep doing it...why change for him? Because he won't marry me if I keep drinking? Is that a good enough reason not to marry someone? What does that say about the way he feels about me?

I love Tom. I love him with every fiber of my being. He's the love of my life, my other half. But lately, for months, I just can't help but question everything. All because of that stupid little sentence he wrote me. He wouldn't marry me if I wasn't Mormon. It rings in my ears, never leaving my brain.

I want to talk to him about it. I want nothing more than to be able to talk to him, and tell him everything I am feeling. Tell him how scared I am. How confused I am. How much I'm hurting. I want to tell him everything I'm experiencing, but how can you say this all in a letter to the man you love? How can you write your heart on a piece of paper, pour your soul, and wait and wait and wait for him to write you back? And then when he does, what if he's angry? What if he's upset? You don't get to explain yourself. You don't get to try and make him understand how you were feeling, what you were going through. Sure, you can try. You can write him back and ask him to understand and you can write him back and explain everything, but then he's waiting and waiting and waiting. And after you send it, you're waiting and waiting and waiting. And then he comes home, and there's this big fat awkward angry elephant separating the two of you.

Plus, I tell him, and now he's totally distracted. He's not thinking about his mission and the people he's teaching. He's thinking about his girlfriend back home. The girlfriend who's questioning their relationship. The girlfriend who's not following her faith - the faith he wants to marry her for.

No. I can't write him. Not about this. I must hold it all inside, until he comes home. He'll come home, I'll run and jump into his arms and shower him with kisses. We'll ride home holding hands in the car and laughing our heads off. We'll spend hours talking about the last two years. And after a couple days (I can't bring this up to him right away), I'll tell him. And I'll explain every doubt, every fear, every emotion. And hopefully he'll be understanding. Hopefully he'll forgive me...

...and then we'll move on from there. Hopefully he can help pull me out of this hole I've dug myself into. Hopefully he can help me get back on track. Hopefully he can revitalize my spirituality. Hopefully he can be the man I fell in love with, the man he was when he left.

Am I wrong in waiting to tell him all my doubts and fears and questioning...and of course the newly acquired weekend drinking habit? Should I tell him now? When is a good time? Is there ever a good time?

People think Tom and I are the golden couple. Everyone has always talked about us getting married, pretty much from the beginning. And there is absolutely no one on this planet that I could love more than I love Thomas. And he loves me so incredibly much - that boy would give me the world if he could. He's so incredibly good to me. And when I talk about our wedding with people, I get butterflies. I get so excited, and I can't wait till that day. There's nothing I want more in this world than to be sealed to Thomas in the temple and spend eternity with him. He is the most amazing person ever to walk into my life. But like I said, there's this nagging thought: what if he doesn't love me for me? He wouldn't marry me if I wasn't Mormon. What does that say? I don't think I'll know until I can be with him again, and feel his love for me.

Ugghhh...I've been crying so much these days. This weekend was wonderful, perfectly wonderful. I {loved} being with his family again. It had been so long. I {loved} talking wedding talk with his mum. But...it made me feel guilty. Guilty for having these thoughts. Guilty for being scared. Guilty for the choices I've made. Thomas is too good for me. I hate feeling this way. I hate crying so much. I pray and I hope when he comes home, everything can go back to normal, but I worry I'm too far gone for that to happen. And when I think that, I think, why even try fixing myself? Why even try making things better? If I'm so far gone, what's the point?
Ahhh...I'm so torn.
So messed up.
So confused.
So scared.