Letter to Shannon

Shannon;

I am writing this in the open, with my whole chest; some things deserve to be said where they can't be taken back.

I have not been okay; I am going to say that plainly, because pretending would be its own kind of lie, and this house runs on one rule. There is a dignity in suffering that the polished version erases; so I am leaving mine where you can see it.

I have known dark places; and instead of turning away from the world, I have been reaching toward help. You were worried about me; you were right to be; and I want you to know the worry landed, and it mattered.

I have been called hard things; some I earned in my worst gear, some I did not; either way they cut, and I am not going to pretend they didn't. The cut is part of the record too.

And still, under all of it; I love you. That is the whole letter, really, and everything else is only detail.

I gave the music side of this entire museum to you; every key on it plays a real note, because you are a Swiftie who knows exactly what it means to own your own record, and because you were there.

You taught me something you never set out to teach; that showing up is louder than being right.

The tears on my face as I write this are the proof that it is real; in this house we say the cry is the documentation, and this one is signed.

I am here; I am not going anywhere; and I love you.

With all my love,
Sean