At the time, the messages between the sermon date and the sunset date felt like connection deepening. Jack Stallings was attentive. He was specific. He noticed things about me that felt small enough to matter: baseball, my credo, my humor, my socks, the way I kissed him, the way I held him. He seemed interested in more than my body. He seemed interested in how I thought, what I believed, what I loved, what I was searching for.