Category: Journal

You know how I’ve been saying that you’re lucky to have someone to talk to when things feel confusing or heavy? Well, I have that person too. Tag, your it. I mean, I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with you… so why shouldn’t you be the one I turn to, even when what I need to talk about involves you? Being able to talk openly, even when it’s hard, is part of what makes US stronger. And I want that with you, always.

I was recently searching for a journaling app, something simple that would let me collect and organize my thoughts more easily. I’ve always found typing to be more natural than writing by hand; it helps me express things I might struggle to say out loud. I wanted a private space to get it all out, somewhere to process everything that’s swirling in my head and heart.

While browsing, I stumbled across an article that suggested writing journal entries in the form of letters. At first, I brushed it off as I have done this before, but the more I thought about it, the more the idea made sense, because these aren’t just about closure. They’re about connection, reflection, and preservation. A letter doesn’t just capture a thought, it captures a moment, a feeling, a piece of time. And that is important.

So I’ve started writing letters, meant specifically for you.

These letters are deeply personal and honest. They are yours, completely. You can keep them, read them when you need to, or even decide what to do with them years from now. But until that time, I’ll be tucking them away in my files like a quiet, growing record of my thoughts, feelings, and our life together.

It’s kind of funny when I think about it, a 50-year-old man, typing out letter-journal entries like some sentimental teenager. But maybe that’s what love and growth do to us. They make us softer in some places, more reflective in others. They make us want to hold on to the things that matter.

Writing these letters is also my way of being vulnerable in a way I don’t always manage in conversation. You know how I sometimes struggle to say what I’m feeling, especially when the emotions are big or complicated. This gives me a way to open up without overthinking every word. It allows me to say things that might otherwise get caught in the knots of my mind.

I’m writing these not just for myself, but for us. I want them to be a window into the parts of me you might not always see. They won’t all be heavy or emotional, some might be full of joy, hope, or even random stories and memories. But every single one will be honest, and every single one will be written with love.

I don’t know how often I’ll write them. Maybe once a week. Maybe when something’s weighing on me. Maybe just because I feel like capturing a moment. But I do know this: every single one I write, I’ll give to you.

Because you’re the person I’ve chosen to spend my life with. And if I’m going to share a lifetime with someone, it only feels right to share my inner world too, even the parts that are hard to talk about.

So, this is the beginning of something new. A letter journal. A written thread of thoughts, love, questions, struggles, and dreams. For us.

The first letter I wrote to you was on May 14th, just two days after I saw the messages between you and KH on May 12th. That moment shook me in ways I didn’t expect, it hit something deep within me. And though I’ve tried to stay calm and thoughtful throughout it, the truth is I’ve been quietly carrying a weight ever since.

It’s now been almost a month, and I’m still processing it all. I’m still sorting through my feelings, unpacking the emotions that came up, and trying to understand exactly why it hurt the way it did. At the same time, I’ve been doing the hard inner work of slowly breaking down the emotional walls I built up, walls that I once believed were necessary to keep myself safe. Those walls might have shielded me, but they also kept me from fully opening up. And with you, I want to be open. I want to be vulnerable. I want to give you all of me, not a version that’s been dulled by fear or hurt.

I genuinely believe that time has the power to heal. Maybe not to erase what happened, but to soften it, to help fill in the cracks in my trust and restore what was shaken. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing to move forward, choosing to rebuild, and choosing to believe in the love that brought us together in the first place. And that’s exactly what I’m choosing, us.

When I told you that I still wanted you to be friends with KH, I wasn’t just saying the “right” thing. I meant it. And even now, I still mean it. I want you to have the friendships that bring you joy and support, even if they’re not always easy for me to understand. That said, I’d be lying if I said everything about your friendship with him feels comfortable right now. There’s a lingering “yuck” feeling, one that I can’t quite shake yet. But it’s not coming from a place of jealousy or possessiveness. It’s coming from a place of being human. Of feeling betrayed. Of trying to make sense of how something that seemed so casual to you could land so heavily for me.

Please don’t mistake my hurt for anger. I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at him. But I am hurt. Not just by the words exchanged, but by the way it all unfolded, by the secrecy, by the feeling that something important was being kept from me. That’s what hurt the most. It wasn’t what was said; it was that I wasn’t supposed to know it was being said at all.

That lack of transparency shook me, because openness and trust are two of the most sacred things in a relationship. When it’s missing, even for a moment, it can cast a dark shadow on everything else. And I don’t want shadows between us. I want clarity. I want trust. I want to feel like there’s nothing unsaid, nothing hidden, nothing I have to stumble to understand.

But I also know that no one is perfect, not me, not you, not anyone. And the fact that we’re here, still showing up for each other, still trying to communicate, still choosing to move forward, that’s what matters. That’s what love is: not perfection, but persistence. Not avoiding hurt, but growing through it together.

So yes, I’m still healing. Yes, I’m still learning how to let down the defenses I instinctively put up when something feels threatening to my heart. But I’m also still here. Still loving you. Still believing in what we’re building. Still wanting this life with you, completely.

And I hope that in time, the trust that cracked will not only heal but become stronger than it was before. Because I know we’re worth that kind of effort. I know you are. One of the things that came out of seeing the messages between you and Kevin and dealing with the hurt, is I found out how much I truly love you and you are my world, and you complete me. I am so looking forward to making you my wife and building a wonderful life together. Us getting married in October and growing old together is truly what I want.

My 50th birthday was an amazing day and one that I will never forget. The way that you set things up and decorated showed me that you wanted to make the day very special and it was. It was one of the perfect days with you and I will always cherish it.

The weekend in Shreveport was special. It felt like a breath of fresh air, a moment where time slowed down just enough for us to really be present and enjoy each other. One of the highlights for me was exploring Caddo Lake State Park. There was something so peaceful and otherworldly about that place, like we had stepped into a hidden corner of nature untouched by time. The towering cypress trees draped in Spanish moss, the calm waters, and the quiet stillness all around, made it feel like we were in our own little world.

I’m looking forward to going back. I just know there’s so much more to see and experience, trails to walk, quiet moments to take in, and definitely opportunities for me to capture some unforgettable photos.

And of course, no trip would be complete without a little wine tasting adventure on the way. Visiting the wineries has become such a fun and relaxing part of our getaways, something uniquely ours. We just need to remember our hard-earned lesson this time: food before wine, not after!

I love these little getaways with you. They give us the chance to reconnect, to escape the routine, and to just be. And I can’t wait for more of them, especially with all of us together, exploring, laughing, and making memories that will last a lifetime.

I thought the conversations we had driving to and from Bally’s were really meaningful. There’s something about being on the open road with you, no distractions, just music, the passing scenery, and time to talk, that creates space for real connection. It felt good. It felt right. Those moments reminded me how much I love simply talking with you, even about the small things.

I especially appreciate the conversation cards we use during our trips. They’ve become such a helpful tool for me, more than I realized at first. They create a structure that gently pulls me out of my own head and into a place where I can express myself more freely. You may not always see it, but my thoughts tend to get tangled. I overthink, replay scenarios, second-guess my words before they even leave my mouth. And when that happens, it’s like my brain locks up, and I find it hard to say what I really mean. The cards give me a way through that, a way to push past the mental noise and actually speak from my heart.

I remember reading something in one of your messages, where you mentioned that sometimes talking with me can be hard. You didn’t say it directly to me, but it stuck with me. It made me realize that maybe I haven’t always made it easy to have those deeper conversations, not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t always know how. And that’s something I want to change. Not just for you, for us.

The truth is, I don’t fully understand why I still hesitate sometimes, especially when it comes to opening up to you. You are the person I’ve chosen to spend the rest of my life with. You’re my partner, my best friend, my future. If there’s anyone I should feel completely safe and open with, it’s you. But the last month has been especially tough for me. I’ve been working, truly working, on tearing down some of the emotional walls I built to protect my heart. Those walls serve a purpose, but they don’t belong between us. They’re not meant to keep you out.

I’m learning, little by little, how to let those defenses go. It’s not easy, and I may not always get it right, but I want you to know I’m trying. I want to grow in how I communicate with you. I want to be more present, more open, more vulnerable, because you deserve that, and I know our relationship will only grow stronger because of it.

So thank you for your patience. Thank you for the quiet encouragement, the gentle nudges, and for listening when I finally do find the words. I love talking with you, and I’m looking forward to many more road trip conversations, some deep, some lighthearted, all meaningful.

There’s something I’ve been holding onto that I feel I need to bring up, because it’s been lingering in my mind and heart, and I don’t want it to quietly fester into something bigger. It happened on the night of June 4th.

That evening, I thought Aaric might have been giving you a hard time about going to bed. I got up and opened the bedroom door to check on things, and when I did, I saw you on the phone. From the brief moment I caught, it sounded like you were deep in conversation, and I had the strong feeling that you were talking with Kevin. I didn’t say anything. I just quietly closed the door and went back to bed, but my mind instantly began spinning.

Lying there, thoughts started racing, questions, doubts, wounds reopening, walls rebuilding. And when you came back into the room a while later, I tried to gently feel out what had happened. I asked if Aaric had been giving you trouble and whether you had fallen asleep in his bed. You asked me why I thought that, and I explained that you had been gone for a while. But in that moment, you didn’t confirm or clarify anything, you didn’t correct me or offer any details. And so, the silence spoke for itself. The only conclusion I could draw was that you were talking to Kevin, and for whatever reason, you didn’t want me to know that.

It’s not the conversation itself that’s bothering me as much as the secrecy around it. It made me feel uneasy, like there was a door quietly closing between us. I don’t want that. I want openness, honesty, even when the truth is difficult. I’ve said before, I don’t expect perfection. But I do hope for transparency, especially as we work to rebuild trust and grow stronger together.

I’m not bringing this up to accuse or argue. I’m bringing it up because I value our connection too much to let small things grow into quiet resentments. This relationship, our life together, it means everything to me. That’s why I’m choosing to be open, even when it feels a little scary or vulnerable.

I’ve also been thinking about our conversation at Bally’s—when we were sitting at the bar and you opened up about messaging Kevin. You told me, in full transparency, that part of the reason for reaching out was to avoid slipping into old Mason like habits. That moment meant a lot to me. I genuinely appreciated your honesty and the courage it took to say that out loud. It showed me that you’re self-aware, that you’re trying to grow, and that you’re willing to share the hard truths with me, even if they’re not easy.

I remember asking you during that same conversation when the last time you had actually spoken with Kevin was. You told me it had been a couple of weeks. But something about that didn’t quite sit right with me. Based on what I’ve observed and sensed, I believe it may have only been a few days earlier, back to June 4th. And ever since then, that small discrepancy has stuck with me, not because I want to catch you in anything, but because I’ve been trying to understand everything. With this, the walls continue to build. I don’t want walls between us.

It’s made me wonder: why hide a phone conversation now? Haven’t we already been through the hardest part? I thought we had moved past the secrecy, that we were in a place of rebuilding on a stronger, more honest foundation. That’s why it’s been hard for me to shake the feeling that something is still being withheld, however small it might seem on the surface. It’s not that I don’t hear you when you say things are okay. It’s not that I don’t believe the core of what you’ve shared. In fact, most of me does believe it. But there’s still a unsettled part of my gut that feels like a lot of pieces are missing. And I don’t want to ignore that instinct, because in the past, I’ve done that, and it’s only led to heartbreak.

What really caught me off guard, though, was the joke you made right before dinner, that I had sent those messages to myself. I know it was meant as a joke, but in that moment, it cut deeply. It felt dismissive of the heartbreak I went through. It felt like the very real hurt I experienced was being made into a punchline, and honestly, it landed like a knife straight to the heart. Part of me thinks you are Kevin are talking this way during your phone calls.

Please understand, I’m not bringing any of this up to make you feel bad. That’s the last thing I want. I’m writing about it because these thoughts have been living in my head and heart, and I need to give them space to breathe. This isn’t about blame, it’s about understanding. I need you to know what’s been weighing on me, not because I want to dwell on the past, but because I want us to move forward with honesty and clarity.

I believe in us. I believe we’re stronger than the hard moments we’ve faced. And I believe that continuing to share the uncomfortable stuff, even when it stings, is how we build something unshakable. You are the person I want to walk through life with. I just want to do it with everything laid out, with no shadows or walls between us.

During one of our recent conversations, while I was getting things ready for the birthday trip, you brought up our sex life. I’ve thought about that moment a lot since then. And I want to say this as clearly as I can: our sex life is the best I’ve ever experienced in my life. It’s not just the physical part, it’s the intimacy, the closeness, the comfort of being completely myself with you. I hope, truly, that it’s been just as meaningful and fulfilling for you.

That said, there’s something I’ve been carrying in the back of my mind, something subtle, but it’s been there. Part of the reason I picked up those items for the trip was because, in some quiet way, I’ve felt like we’ve started to lose a bit of that intimate connection. Not the love, we still have that, but the small gestures that made us feel so close at the beginning. The little things that reminded us we were wanted, needed, safe with each other. I guess I hoped those things I got would help spark something again, not because anything is broken, but because I want to make sure the flame between us always stays lit.

I keep thinking back to the early days of us as a couple, those quiet moments lying in bed together. We used to take turns gently touching, rubbing each other’s arms or backs, simply being close. It wasn’t about sex. It was about connection, affection, comfort. It was one of the ways I felt deeply loved and safe with you, and one of the ways I loved showing you how much you meant to me.

Lately, I’ve found myself missing that. Missing you, in that quiet, nonverbal way. I know we’ve both been carrying a lot emotionally over the past couple of months, and maybe that’s part of it. But it feels like I’ve been the one reaching out for those small, intimate moments, offering the touch, the closeness, and not feeling it returned.

Please don’t take this as criticism. I’m not trying to point fingers or say you’re doing something wrong. I just want to share what I’ve been feeling, because those little acts of closeness matter to me. They help me feel connected, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. After all, that is my Love Language.

I want us to hold onto all the things that make our relationship strong, and I believe our intimacy, on every level, is one of those things. I love you deeply, and I want to keep building and nurturing every part of our bond, not just through grand gestures or milestones, but through the little moments that happen when no one’s watching. Like lying side by side, in the quiet, just being together.

I read somewhere that everyone comes into a relationship with baggage. You will either trip over each other’s bags or you will unpack them together. The right person will sit down with you and unpack them together. I know without a shadow of a doubt, we are the right people for each other.

You came into my life when I least expected it, quietly, almost as if fate whispered your name into my world when I wasn’t even looking. And somehow, without warning, you became the most important person in my life. You didn’t just walk in, you fit, we fit. Like a missing piece I didn’t even realize I’d been searching for.

I want you to remember something, always, no matter what life brings, no matter the storms we weather or the challenges we face, I will never stop loving you. My love for you isn’t tied to convenience, or to perfect days. It’s tied to you, to your heart, your soul, the way you see me, the way you hold space for me, even when I’m struggling to hold it for myself.

You give me feelings I never knew I was capable of feeling again. Real, deep, soul-level emotions, the kind that settle into your bones and make you feel at home in someone’s presence. When I look at you, I don’t just see the person I love. I see my future. I see the laughter we’ll share, the dreams we’ll build, the adventures we’ll take, the quiet nights we’ll wrap ourselves in. I see a life I want, not just now, but always.

With you, I’ve found something rare. I’ve found peace. A calm I didn’t even know I needed, and certainly never thought I’d find. You are the steady hand when everything feels overwhelming. You are the light that cuts through my darkest days. You are the soft place I land when the world feels hard.

You’re not just the love of my life, you’re my strength. My home.

Thank you. Thank you for showing me what real love feels like. Thank you for choosing me, even when I’m not at my best. Thank you for walking with me, loving me, and allowing me to grow alongside you.

And know this—truly, deeply: I’ll love you always. No matter what.

For my birthday weekend, AJ and I took a trip to Shreveport. It turned out to be an alright trip, though it is not somewhere I would recommend visiting.

Our plan was to do a little shopping and refresh some of our clothes while we were there, so we packed only a single change of clothing. The place we were staying was supposed to be right next to an outlet mall, which seemed like a safe bet.

After checking in, we walked over to the mall and quickly realized that almost all of the stores were closed down. The place was practically empty. We managed to find one store that was still open and bought the bare minimum so we would at least have something to wear for the rest of the weekend.

Later we sat at the bar and talked with a few people, telling them about some of the trips we had taken. During the conversation they mentioned that we probably should not venture out at night. Just a couple of weekends earlier there had been a shooting right in front of the hotel, and they said the streets were not very safe after dark.

After a few drinks, the conversation between AJ and me drifted back to KH since they had been texting. AJ showed me the messages they were exchanging, and everything appeared innocent.

At one point the bartender realized it was my 50th birthday weekend and helped arrange dinner for us with a specific waiter at the restaurant.

On the way to dinner, AJ made a comment that caught me completely off guard. She said she thought it might have been me who got into her Facebook account and sent the screenshots to my own phone. I could not believe she would even think that. I could not understand what possible reason I would have for doing something like that. A little later she walked that statement back and said she had only been joking, but I did not find it funny at all.

I decided to push past it so the evening would not be ruined. Dinner ended up being wonderful. I told her not to order anything and that I would choose everything for her. By the end of the meal she said it was one of the best dinners she had ever had, and she even admitted that she now likes French onion soup.

Today was my 50th birthday. AJ surprised me by throwing a party at MH’s house. She took care of all the decorations and put everything together.

It turned out to be a really great time, and I appreciated all the effort she put into making the day special.

We have been making progress in repairing our relationship and continuing to talk through things. I know that when I bring up the affair, it still upsets AJ. Sometimes I wonder if I am pushing too hard when I want to talk about it, or if it simply hurts her to face how much it hurt me.

With the amount of love I have for this woman, I choose to believe it is the latter.

It has only been a few weeks since I found out, but I have realized that I truly want to spend the rest of my life with her. Today I told her that I still want to get married, and we decided to get engaged again.

Over the weekend, AJ, AE, and I went camping near Fredericksburg. We had driven by this place many times during our weekend trips to Fredericksburg, but we had never actually stayed there before.

Believe it or not, we all ended up having a really good time. AE was not his usual misbehaving self, which made the trip much more enjoyable. We were able to relax, sit by the pool, and have a couple of beers while enjoying the quiet weekend together.

Today AJ’s oldest, CL, moved into college. It should have been an exciting day for her and a proud moment for the family.

Unfortunately, I found it hard to feel that excitement because I was still dealing with everything surrounding the affair. My mind was still trying to process everything that had happened.

It also made things more difficult because I do not have a very positive opinion of CL. In my view, he tends to be very manipulative with her, and that has always made it harder for me to feel comfortable about their relationship.

AJ, AE, and I spent the weekend camping at Camp Fimfo Waco. Even though more messages had come through and I brought them up with AJ, we still managed to have a good time together.

Of course, it would not be a trip with AE without some sort of incident. At one point he got into a fight with another kid at the campground. Even with that moment, most of the weekend was still enjoyable.

I eventually turned off the device that was receiving the messages so they would stop interrupting what we were trying to do. We were both trying to focus on rebuilding what had been damaged.

Trying to reconnect after an emotional affair is not easy. It takes time, patience, and a lot of difficult conversations, that AJ really does not want to have.

Let me start by saying you are truly the love of my life. During some of our first conversations, I told you about writing VS a letter after she passed, containing everything on my mind, only to burn it afterward. As I write this, I’m contemplating doing the same with these words. If you’re reading this now, well… I guess I needed you to hear me.

The purpose of this letter isn’t to make you feel sad or upset, it’s just me trying to make sense of the storm inside my head. These are the words I can’t seem to say out loud without my voice breaking.

Monday blindsided me completely. That feeling in my chest, like someone had reached in and squeezed my heart until it couldn’t beat right anymore, God, I didn’t think I’d have to feel that again so soon. It’s that same shattering feeling you know all too well.

I stared at those messages until my eyes burned. Reading them once, twice, twenty times, like maybe the words would rearrange themselves if I just looked hard enough. My mind kept rejecting what was right in front of me. Not us. Not after the life we’ve been building, the future we’ve painted together in our conversations.

I keep asking myself what I did wrong. What made you turn to someone else. You’ve told me it wasn’t about me, but my mind still has a hard time accepting that answer. Was I not listening when you needed me? Did I stop seeing you somewhere along the way? I replay our days together looking for the moment I failed you.

Remember those nights when you’d go quiet, and I’d ask what was wrong, and you’d say “nothing” with that faraway look? I felt it then, that subtle withdrawal, the slight shift in how you held yourself around me. My gut twisted with a warning I chose to ignore. I told myself I was being insecure, that relationships have up’s and down’s. I chose us over my fears. Monday, I sat there wondering if I should have trusted that hollow feeling all along.

I’ve analyzed every action, every time I was too wrapped up in my own world to notice yours. I’ve questioned everything about myself. Is it the way I look now? The way I laugh? Have I become that person you tolerate rather than desire? The one you’ve outgrown but don’t know how to leave?

For three years, I’ve felt those moments when something seemed off, when you’d check your phone a little too quickly, when your smile wouldn’t quite reach your eyes. That voice in my head would whisper that you were slipping away, but I’d drown it out with memories of good days. Then I saw those messages about a life that didn’t include me, and suddenly that voice was the only one I could hear.

I’ve made bargains with myself that don’t make sense. If I could just be funnier, more spontaneous, more whatever-it-is-you-need, maybe you wouldn’t need to look elsewhere. Maybe you’d choose me, every day, the way I choose you.

In my darkest hours this week, logic disappeared completely. All I could think was that I must have failed you so completely that you had to find connection somewhere else. Am I not capable of being what you need? Have I never been enough? These questions haunt me at 3 AM when I pretend to be asleep beside you.

Through all of this mess of feelings, one thing hasn’t changed, not even for a second. I love you. Not the perfect version of you I’ve created in my mind, but the real you. The one who leaves coffee mugs and clothes everywhere and can’t remember appointments.

I can’t act like Monday never happened. The trust between us has cracks now that weren’t there before. But when I look at you, even through the hurt, I see the person I want to build a life with. The one I want to figure this out with.

I’m still raw. Still processing. Still trying to find solid ground. Healing from this won’t be quick or simple. But I’m in this, fully, completely in this, if you are too.

What I need from you isn’t perfection. I need honesty that hurts more than comfortable. I need your presence, even when it’s hard to give. I need to know you’re fighting for us as hard as I am.

We can get through this. Not by pretending it away, but by facing it together, by being painfully transparent with each other. I’m choosing us, the messy, imperfect, beautiful us. I’m choosing the future we’ve dreamed about, even if the path there looks different now.

I love you. Not despite the cracks, but with them.

Today was a very difficult day for me. After everything that happened during the trip to Bandera, and the way AJ had been acting, I finally felt like I had to look at the messages that had been sent to my phone.

When I read them, my world came crashing down again. Over the past three years that AJ and I had been in a relationship, she and KH had been having an emotional affair. There were many messages between them talking about how they had feelings for each other but that the distance between them was the issue. There were even photos of them kissing, although those were taken before I was ever in the picture.

Still, reading the messages was devastating. AJ had written several times that she would have waited for him, that they were worth waiting for, and that while she was building a life with me, she was secretly in love with him.

I called her and told her that I had read the messages. I told her how badly it hurt and that it felt like she had ripped my heart apart. We had been planning a life together, and suddenly it felt like the last few years had been built on a lie.

A few hours later, I sent her a message asking if I could come by her house during lunch so we could talk in person. She agreed. When I got there, we talked about everything. She told me that she would give up KH if it meant losing me. I knew that KH had helped her through some very difficult times after she lost her husband, so I was hesitant to completely demand that she cut him out of her life. I told her they could remain friends, but only if the sexting stopped and if they only spoke on the phone when I was around.

While we were talking, KH called her. I could not handle it in that moment. I got up, walked out, and drove back home.

Later in the afternoon, close to the end of the workday, she sent me a text asking if she could come over to talk. I agreed. We talked more about the messages and how deeply it hurt me to read them. She said that a lot of what they said to each other was just joking and talking trash back and forth, and that they did not really have feelings for each other.

I did not believe that. I still think they have real feelings for each other.

Even with all of that, we decided to stay together and try to work through it.

We headed to Bandera to visit AJ’s family ranch with BA, LA, and all of the kids. We rented an Airbnb with a pool so the kids would have something fun to do while we were there.

That evening at the Airbnb, the four of us spent some time talking about the strange situation with the Facebook messages and trying to figure out what was going on. None of it seemed to make much sense, especially since the screenshots that had been sent were so innocent.

The next morning, we headed out to the ranch. While we were driving, my phone suddenly started blowing up with a flood of new screenshots. Since I was behind the wheel, I handed my phone to AJ and asked her to see what was being sent. She read a few of them to me, but not all of them. I could see confusion on her face as she scrolled through them. Her mom and a few of the kids were riding in the car with us, so we did not talk much about it other than saying how innocent the messages seemed.

When we arrived at the ranch, everyone settled in and we had a good time. We went on a few hikes up the hill and spent some time exploring the property. We even tried to get into the cabin on the ranch, but AJ’s mom had forgotten the keys and we did not want to break in.

Later, back at the Airbnb, I was sitting by the pool when AJ came out to join me. I could tell something was on her mind because she was acting differently than usual. I suspected it had something to do with the screenshots that had been sent to my phone, but I resisted the urge to go through them myself.

For the rest of the trip, it felt like something was weighing on her mind.