In the morning, he greets me with a cheery message. It brightens up my day (quite literally) and sets the tone for the rest of it. I return with a quick word of thanks and would tell him what I had on for the day ahead. I share with him my excitement, my dread and complain a little but somehow bearing a lot of hope because in the end, I know he would understand.
The morning gets a little rushed sometimes and I talk to him while I walk (faster than I jog) to work. It is a beautiful moment to feel the world rushing by but his love steadying my being. Other days, the mornings are silent and I just… work, those days I never remember.
At work, I hear from him but it is a rather surface level conversation we have. I think about him when I read some catholic stuff on the internet or on wednesdays I meet him at lunchtime mass. It is almost like a formality but there are little bits of emotion that leave me genuinely happy. There used to be these regular dates when I met him at 6.30pm just for some time together, I miss those days.
More often than not, we go out with another friend and it is funny how he does not talk much but his presence just makes me come alive, especially when he is standing in the center. At 11, we end up in ado and have an intimate chat there. Like how yesterday I was really burdened but the mere act of honestly talking to him lifted all that and I went back as happy as can be. No big gifts that impress, just his love that makes the troubles of this world seem so small.