Coming Home to Sister , Part I

Ever since childhood, my younger sister Sarah and I have been the best of friends. She is three years younger than me, but I have often thought that she was the more mature one. We spent many hours together as kids talking about our impressions and confusions in life, watching Rocky Mountain sunsets, and playing board games during the long winter months. As we grew into teenagers, we realized that we deeply loved each other in every way except for one - because of course, that was strictly taboo.

What I could never bring myself to admit to anyone, sometimes not even to myself, was that,...

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