The routine of life in the seminary went on - classes, masses, rosaries, the liturgy of the hours, recreation, meals, sleep - but not a day went by where I failed to think of what Norbert would soon have in store for me. Sometimes I worried that what we were going to do would be a sin, but I tried to tell my worrying self to shut up. It would be beautiful - so beautiful, as Norbert had said, that it could not possibly be a sin. I imagined that Martin Luther must have started telling himself that his secret sins weren't sins either, and I still didn't want to end up like him - but I wasn't trying too hard to avoid ending up like him, either.