My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 34

14 February 1921

Dear Diary,

    I know it has been quite a while since I've last written you, and though in my last entry I felt as though I no longer needed you as my emotional crutch, seeing as I have Thomas to do so, I can't help but feel like perhaps I ought to start writing in here again.

    Cal stayed with us for all of two weeks before he set off back for Ireland with a new found determination to fight for his love. I was prepared to support him any way I possibly could, and I even wrote to Matthew urging him to take Cal's side. And though I'm happy that Cal has gone to fight for his love, I can't help but miss him terribly now that he's gone. It was nice to have him around, but in a way I felt as though he provided a bittersweet reminder that a part of me did belong back in England; the aristocracy was my life during those times. But in a way he made me grateful of what I have; Cal had a title to inherit back home, I have no such obligation and am thus l free to roam the world as I am.

    Callum changed so much in my life during his short stay here, and aside from widening my horizons of my world view, he also helped to step back into the roll of confidant he'd always taken. And though Thomas has been a dear confidant these past few months, one can't deny that it helped having Cal around to talk about perhaps the topic that muddled my mind most; my feelings for Thomas.

    I love Thomas Wilson. I love him so much I wish to scream it from the rooftops. It wasn't long ago that I was sceptical of men loving men; I was never shown that it was possible. All my encounters were driven by lust and only lust; there was never any love in the equation. But when I look at Thomas I feel this indelible sensation of safety, security, and warmth within me.

At first I knew not what to call this feeling, was it simply comfort or something more? All my life I've only ever seen love between men and women, the relations between men and men were only seen as sexual deviances and sexual abominations; such is the world we live in where our sorts of 'love' isn't seen as love because we are raised in a society where it is deemed 'abnormal'.

    But the more I think on it the more foolish I feel for not seeing it earlier. Whenever Thomas isn't around I long to see him and whenever he walks into a room I feel as though my heart could stop altogether. But a part of me fears that should I tell him how I feel, I might scare him away or pressure him into feeling the same way about me. Whilst another part of me fears that he'll feel the same way, only for us to be ripped apart once more when I return home to England. I know not what the future has in store for us, and though I know it to be terribly ill advised to dream so, a part of me wishes there was a world where I could live with Thomas as a family forever.

    Love, Henry

    A knock on Henry's door jolted him out of own his little world; his candlelight bathed face turning towards the door as a smile crept across his face. He laid the fountain pen down onto his desk and pushed himself up to standing; rushing towards his bed to pick up his dressing gown.

"No need to cover up, it's nothing I haven't seen." Henry blushed as he heard Thomas' voice coming through the door; Thomas had told him earlier that evening that they couldn't sleep together that night because he had an early day the next morning. Sure, it was a disappointment to Henry, but as an understanding adult he soon got over it.

"Cheeky." Henry opened the door with a smirk, earning him a naughty grin from the handsome taller blond. "Have you come to say goodnight, then?" Henry crossed his arms over his chest as he leant against the door frame.

"Not quite." Thomas had a glint in his eyes as though he knew something Henry didn't.

"Oh?" Henry cocked a brow at Thomas.