|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|Dear Aiden Sequel|

|Self-Conclusion|Justin Bieber|3|

I smiled at the small child in my arms as she looked at me with her expectant grin. Rosie stood with her back to me while she texted someone on her phone. The smell of the wood burning in the wood stove in the corner filled the house, setting the winter mood and warming the frigid mountain air that had found its way through the cracks in the windows. Autumn kissed my cheek and jumped down from my arms. She went back to playing her game.

"So I heard that you-know-who finally came around today," Rosie said, turning around to face me.

Rosie is a 5'11 blonde woman in her late twenties. She's heavy set and tough as nails. She was born with a problem with her vocal chords and speaks in a hoarse voice as if she's got a terrible cold. Usually motivating and trying to turn a blind eye to the negatives. She lives in the smallest out of several houses built on Grandpa's land. Rosie is the type of person that you can always depend on to be with you when you need support.

"Yeah, I don't really want to talk about it right now. I've had enough of it all," I sighed, falling back onto her soft leather couch.

"You never want to talk about it, Aiden. It's not good to shut things out like you do," She said.

"I know. But it's all I can do to keep myself from having a mental breakdown. Just keep pushing it away," I spoke quietly.

"I know it's hard, A. It's just not a very healthy situation. I think you should have stopped for a second, pulled your head out of your ass, and let the kid explain himself," She said, making her point.

I don't like arguing with Rosie. It's not a battle that's easily won. You have to be absolutely positive that you are right and she is wrong before you decided to take your chances and quite frankly I was never really sure on who was right. Was I right for shutting him out? Was he right for leaving? Or were we both wrong? Either way, I wasn't going to get into this with Rosie. So I didn't reply to her.

"You're going to have to talk to him at some point if he keeps coming around. By not talking to him when he needs you to, is almost as bad as him leaving you after what happened," She continued.

By that time she had pissed my off. I gave her a nasty glare and stood up, "No, Rosie. It's not. He left first."

She advanced on me, "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps he left for your own good?"

"No, as a matter of fact it didn't. But look at me. Does it look like it did me much good? I'm almost 18 years old and already on the edge of a mental breakdown. My mind and sanity are gripping their hinges with every bit of the little strength they have left. I'm losing my head," I said, confidently standing my ground.

She looked at me with the deepest sympathy in her eyes and put her hand on my shoulder, "Maybe what you need is some reassurance from him. That he cares, you know?"

"Maybe. But I'm not sure I'm willing. I'm still burned by what he did," I admitted.

"I really would think you were crazy if you weren't. But you might find out something that may comfort you if you just talk to him," she spoke softly.

I looked up into her light blue eyes sadly, "I won't ever be comforted by him again. I loved him Rosie. Or at least I thought I might have. I never stopped to really consider, even when he asked me. Though, when I woke up in the Baylor Medical Center ICU, I knew for sure as soon as I opened my eyes. Only to find out that he'd already gone."

"You can still tell him that," she said.

"If I did, it would be bad. He's in a relationship with Selena Gomez. I suspect that he's here for a reason that is nothing like what we've assumed. Most likely just tying up loose ends, but I'm not going to let him. I won't let him go on living like nothing happened. Because it did."