Max - (although this isn't his real name, this was the actual name he used when he introduced himself to me) was a someone I got to know from the ward.
Hardly kept in-touch, but there were some email correspondence sporadically and thinly spread out since 2005 - which is already a lot for any of my acquaintances from this background.

He used to read my blog.
If he still does, I hope he'd read this post as my way of sending kind regards to him.

The last we communicated, he told me about his relapse.
I felt very sorry and worried for him.
I still do.

Two years ago he was in Nottingham, England -pursuing his Masters.
From the stories he was relating to me, I could feel his elation and hopefulness.
Among his new found activities was Zumba.
He explained to me what it was (I didn't know) and how great it made him feel.
He even shyly told me about his crush on a lady who also takes the class.
I was so happy for him.
I really thought that things were really looking up for him.
How unfortunate that he relapsed.

Now, each time I see people dancing Zumba in the gym, I'd think of him.
I fervently hope that he'd find his peace, joy and hopefullness once again.