One night

… maybe a two or three.  I stay awake hoping I would hear from you. I look at my little boy, hold his hand and tuck him near. I surrender and whisper “I love you” in his ear. There’s comfort feeling that love for my boy.

But somehow — it is also a confession of something I am able to do only at the dead of the night.

I find this so beautiful. If I had been able to be pregnant with the woman that I Love, this would be me:

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