His name is Patrick. He has a son who is 3 years older than I am. C and J had Biblical names (Caleb, Jacob), so I guess you can say I’ve moved on from the Old Testament to Saints.

Yesterday I started re-reading our whole chain of emails. As Raymond Carver writes in “Cathedral”: “It’s really something.”

Even if things were to come to nothing, if we meet and decide friendship is the only course forward, this collection of emails is precious to me. There is so much kindness, sweet words full of heart and sincerity, true thoughts. It is, of itself, something beautiful–each email, a petal on a blossom that still grows.

There are still a number of questions left unanswered. As we lay out all our cards on the table, there is more I want to ask him. But I know I must be patient; things have a way of unraveling over time. If there is too much, too quickly,  it can be overwhelming and scare a person off.

I spoke with my own father yesterday to tell him about the theater tickets I got him for Father’s Day. He was very pleased with what the show was and is looking forward to it. During our conversation, he said, “You sound happy. I haven’t heard you laugh like that in a long time.”

I thought about Patrick. I thought about how wonderful it is to feel connected with someone, to want to know and share more with a person, to have someone who can make you happy even at a great distance. 

We are all blindly drawing in this life with other people, trying to construct our own cathedral in the dark.

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