March 5

Dear Oliver,

Our plane just landed and I've been shown to my quarters. I have 30 minutes before I have to report. I have already surrendered my laptop and cell. I need my phone. I need to call you. I need to tell you that I wish I had never left.

I wish our date had never been interrupted. I wish we had finished our walk. Do you know how wonderful it was when I took your arm and you reached across and held my hand? I wish we sat in our squeaky porch swing – laughing and talking. I wish you had kissed me again.

I must confess. I bought your favorite coffee and had it ready to brew when we returned from dinner - if you came in – if you wanted a cup of coffee. There are two Yoo-hoo's in the refrigerator. Let me be clear, I didn't buy them for me. They were there just in case you wanted one. As many ways that I thought our evening might end, it certainly wasn't with me flying off to an undisclosed location.

As the long hours passed inflight, all I could think of was that with each passing hour76 I was being taken further and further away from Denver, from the DLO, from you. I once told you that I have no plans on leaving. I certainly didn't plan on this. I hope you know that I will come home as soon as I can. Home, my dear gentleman, my very best date – home has become wherever you are.

They are calling for me.

With my heart full of regret for leaving,

Shane