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Growing up, we got our Christmas trees from Mr. Munro, the man who owned our house before us.

The other day I was sitting in my neighborhood Starbucks surrounded by the chatter of conversation and people hunched over their laptops or newspapers. At one table, however, something remarkable was going on.

I met Arthur six years ago, thanks to an online ad.

I didn't know what to expect from my long-distance friendship with Arthur - but it wasn't this.

One Friday last month, I finally broke my news to Arthur.