It makes sense. I’m a lover. I’m passionate about love. Meant to embody it’s essence. I fall in love with anything, the lightest and darkest of things. Though my heart has gotten many beatings. I will never stop. And yet she loves to try and try again. Right now my most important love is my sun. X is it all… I’ve watched bits of the sunset. I’ve sorted through my past lovers like solitaire. I wonder why I hold on so tightly like…
Why am I filled with curiosities? Is it possible to outgrow your lovers? To forget them.?
I’ll never forget my sun. I replay his birth and his numbers over and over in my head. I want to always be able to see it clear as day. He’s growing right before my eyes and I can’t squeeze him any tighter. He loves affection, he deserves it. I love knowing that he feels loved. I love making good choices in thought of him.
My love has outgrown me for him. Still sleeping through the night, still nursing. I get tied up in how he sleeps. The different positions. How his little arms folds and gets heavier and heavier with each soft sweet breathe. He gets sleepier. He loves the water; when we take baths together, he’d karate kick and chop the water until he’s all worn out, then fall straight to bed.
Taking it one day at a time. I have much to do, much to shift, and ample enough time, and the willpower as well.
Freegrandmaa 