Today the Emails Died

They started in November of 2010 purely by intentional accident. I was in the Stow Library, taking time away from my job to work on my novel. I’d written for a large part of the morning and was doing research on literary agencies in the afternoon. I sent a brief email to Paul Muller of the Aarau Literary Agency, and he was kind enough to respond.

From there, “email” took on a new meaning.

Paul and I began a correspondence in December of 2010 that at its high point would see us sending three to four emails a day. We talked about everything from books to philosophy to family to religion to cats and everything in between. We shared secrets, dreams and fears. We became the best of friends separated by 40 years and half a world—all built through email.

I still think it was a mistake to start conversing via MSN Messenger. Our correspondence via texting lacked the well-thought arguments and relevance that comes from taking time to craft an email with few holes.

In March of 2013, I finally got to meet Paul face-to-face. We spent a week together in Collingwood, Canada. Speaking of all the things that we had previously written and sharing meals and playing games. He enjoyed meeting my kids and my wife, and we genuinely had a wonderful time.

We had talked of so much during our week-long visit, that the emails were less frequent upon his return to Thailand. He was caught up in working on his next “big idea”, and I was caught up in the regular activities of life.

On May 10, 2013, Paul sent me an email decrying the treatment of a middle school teacher who was recently fired for having a part-time job as a swimsuit model. He saw it as an excellent example of the hypocrisy of the United States. His arguments were as familiar as an old pair of shoes and I could hear the tremor in his voice as he got his dander up…

That was the last email.

I found out today that Paul, my dear friend, has died.

Since I had seen him in person only once, and spoken to him directly only a handful of times, there isn’t much that will change in my daily life…but the emails are done. I’ve received so many that the flashing green light on my phone, telling me that I have a new email, is the thing I most closely associate with Paul. I loved seeing that flashing green light.

Now that light has gone. I’m so sad and my spirit is so much poorer for the loss, but I am vastly richer for knowing him, and I have the treasure of all those emails.

I love you, Paul. I miss you.