I’m unsure how to even begin this post. The last few days have brought many emotions; some I wasn’t expecting at all. I’m knackered.
I couldn’t sleep well the past few nights. Partly due to the heat but mostly due to the buzz from leads pouring in. My husband and I stayed up late on our computers, looking up every tip. Even the stupid Moody Blues my husband mocked with (I Know You’re Out There Somewhere) distracted me only briefly for a laugh.
I have to laugh.
This journey is fun. The youthful, carefree energy from 1998 with me even as I wade through comments, trolls, and pictures people send. Because I like to write fiction, I think it gets easy for me to think of him as a character. But he’s not.
He’s very real.
For two years, I’ve blogged about this person. Someone I connected with long ago- we were two kids, really- in a large city, unsure of our place. We clung to the comfort of the other (me more than him, I’m sure). Many years ago I traveled to San Francisco, grieving a significant death of someone I cared about very much, and I began to heal. Joe was a part of that, and at the time, wanted to be. I’m grateful. His meaningful inscription in a book about connection and healing, motivated me to look for him now that I’m living in New Zealand.
Thanks to the Dominion Post for seeing the fun in this story, and to the lovely people of Wellington, I now have a proper name for the person I’ve referred to as Joe Wellington for so long.
Joe and I have been in contact. I nearly had a panic attack when the email hit my inbox. Because he’s real.
So what’s next?
We’ll meet. Today. I have no expectations.
Right now, I have dishes to do and a sunrise to honour. But, I’m happy to finally be able to say:
I’ve found Joe Wellington.
(More to come)