It’s been a minute. He’s three now. He’s so three. He’s epic three but his heart is pure and that’s fine by me. But perhaps that is past tense and perhaps that’s my fault.
The only thing I ever wanted to do was to give my son love and maybe I’ve done that in excess, if that’s even a thing. I fell in love and moved him in because he swore he would love us forever. There was a moment I saw it and shut everything down but I’m an idiot human who needed to breathe and looked back.
This beautiful son says it was an accident, we can say we’re sorry. We can change, mama! Tim
He is my best friend! I lie in bed convinced I’m a monster. Quizzing my besties as to whether or not I am; I must be. How did I get here? Did I figure out too much of my own shit? Have I been alone for too long? How could this happen?
Can’t breathe, struggling to function to not destroy this innocent child further. Yearning to be loved. Like, really loved.