The first time I saw Luke was inside the Chapel of the hospital I used to go to for my treatment. He would stay outside, his head bowed and with his hands clasped together. He looked like he was praying so hard, wishing for a damn surreal miracle and I was right, partly. I stood there, watching him like some stupid stalker, fascinated with him and the spell only broke when he lifted his head and leaned back on the rest of the chair. I’m not a devout Catholic but I sent a prayer to the sky for him, hoping that whatever he was praying for, he would get.
Each time I saw him, he would be there, in the same place, in the same seat... and in the same position. Each time I saw him, I would also send a prayer for his wish to come true.
I like to think that I did help but he’s been praying for it far longer than I thought. So maybe I didn't do shit.
It was months later that I had my first conversation with him. It was after one appointment with my doctor, I was mad and while I was not a devout Catholic, I still believed in God.
He wasn’t there that day when I came to the Chapel, and I was glad because I needed to be alone.
I stood there in the aisle like a maniac, screaming at the altar, when I heard Someone’s footsteps approach me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him, a sympathetic smile on his face. I got so angry at him because What was up with that smile? Did he understand my pain?
He didn’t.
No one did.
I could remember he shook his head, calm like I haven’t screamed at him moments before.
He sat down and looked at the altar. I expected him to ignore me, I expected him to scream back but he just sighed, with a smile still plastered on his face “I know a smile is probably the last thing you need at the moment but I’m sorry I can’t wipe it off my face. My boyfriend just woke up.”
“Are you here to thank him?” I asked. “He had nothing to do with it, I’m sure science has a better explanation for it. It’s not some Goddamn miracle.”
Luke just kept smiling before he nodded. “Maybe. But whatever the reason is, my heart is full of gratitude.” Luke told me. He faced the altar again, and a solemn expression fell on his face, but still I could feel happiness radiating from him, it was affecting my own mood. He clasped his hands together, and I'm not sure what compelled me to sit down next to him, but I did. I watched him, he was whispering something that was too low for me to hear. I was unaware of how long it took for him to finish, but I guessed we were there for some time.
When he was done, he turned to me, an expectant expression on his face, he wanted a reason probably why I was still there. Instead of explaining though I said, "You don't usually go inside."
"You've seen me before?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, well, I'm not exactly Catholic." Luke told me. I looked at him, my eyebrow quirked up. What was he doing there then? "You're wondering why I'm here. My boyfriend is, and while I understand that maybe, it's pointless to believe in miracles, when I first came here, I was desperate for one."
"Your boyfriend..."
"He likes to seek comfort in houses of God. Despite the bigotry and ignorance that some Church Leaders seek to spout... he still sees this kind of place as a Safe Haven. He told me that I shouldn't listen to preachers who seek to alienate those people who have done nothing wrong. God, Jesus loves us all."
"Is your boyfriend a pastor?"
"No. He just has a very big heart."
That conversation was cut short because a nurse approached Luke. "Luke, Nine's looking for you."
