Complicated

Shawn blew out a weighted breath, “I did.”

I expected more from him. Anything more. Shawn was never one to be at a loss for words, but right now, the only thing he said was I did.

It’s been five years since I sent that letter. Five years I wondered if he’d gotten it. And I told myself it wouldn’t matter if he did. But I hoped he didn’t, because I poured my heart into every word that went onto that page. Tears blurred the writing as I laid out a nine year long crush onto a single sheet of loose leaf paper.

The last line I wrote on that paper was: With you, I am home.

When I’d written that line, I meant it with every fiber of my being. Shawn was always there growing up. He got me like no one else did. And no matter how things were at home, he made it seem so insignificant.

He was the one person in my life that truly felt like home.

He still does.

None of that matters now. I moved on with James. I’m married.

I’m married.

It was just a stupid letter that I’d written in the heat of