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415 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 7, 2021
I can鈥檛 stop the tender shoots and slender, seeking roots of him, and I am his garden, his soil, his place, and it would be wonderful if I wasn鈥檛 supposed to be the garden of my god instead.
Aiden,鈥� he says softly, and I relish hearing my secular name from him, because it was the name that belonged to him, to his lips and thoughts and even his fingers when he was scolding or flirting over text or email.
鈥淚 can鈥檛 compete with God, Aiden.鈥�
鈥淚 can鈥檛 compete with fireflies in the cloister.
Please don鈥檛 make me try.鈥�
I keep asking myself what I want. What I want from this, knowing that it will end, and it will hurt more than the first time it ended鈥� [鈥 and as I write this under the shade of an old oak tree, I can watch a shirtless Aiden move through the rows of lavender as he harvests the lavender flowers with the other monks.
I think I could watch him forever, simply watch him be a monk. The work, the prayer, the singing, the silence.
Maybe I don鈥檛 understand, maybe I鈥檒l never understand, but when I watch him, it feels like I don鈥檛 have to. It feels like simply being with him is enough.
鈥淵ou鈥檙e so beautiful. It鈥檚 like you鈥檙e so beautiful for me, just for me,鈥�
"And anyway, I already love him like how forever feels. I already love him like eternity is in the rearview mirror. I love him like everything."