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A Letter To The Baby I Wasn’t Destined To Have

A Letter To The Baby I Wasn’t Destined To Have

You were my wish since the day I met him – your not-meant-to-be daddy. From the outset, he was the love of my life, the man of my dreams.

It was against all the book rules, all the other guidelines that we were taught to follow as an example for our extraordinary, yet so ordinary and dull lives.

But we fell for each other in the most unusual place. The place you’d never think that in your wildest dreams, such a thing called big love could happen.

And you, my unfulfilled dream, were everything that I wanted from life. You would represent another chance, another first step to starting all over.

I begged for life to bless me with that chance because every day, more and more, I was dying inside. Until it happened and I met him, the one tailored for me.

And a little time has passed since I started wanting to hold you in my arms, wishing for a boy who had his father’s eyes, and his mother’s will to live, love, and laugh.

Since day 1, I wanted everything with him. I did everything for him. And deep down inside I knew I’d never regret it. But why would I?

Is pride stronger than love? Is sadness and ending up all alone, rejected by everyone, stronger than the feelings you get to experience once in a lifetime, if you are lucky?

Do you appreciate yourself more? You deserve better than that? Then you haven’t been given a chance to truly love.

We lived separate lives and a life of togetherness, for this was the only way to be. This was the only way for our love to survive.

In the end, we sacrificed the love we lived for. We both decided to die, so others could live.

But you would change all of that, wouldn’t you!? You would come into this world as an insult to all those rules and guidelines.

Your birth would be the talk of the city. You would change so many lives; you would make so many people cry. Just with your bare innocence and pure existence.

Rejected from everyone, with the scarlet letter on my forehead, I would walk these streets with pride.

Joy would fill my heart because you were made out of true love, the one you know only comes once in a lifetime.

And you, my boy, would be living proof of that. That love doesn’t come in a package with instructions to who you should or shouldn’t love.

Love doesn’t pick a side. Love doesn’t understand the language of names or religion.

Love doesn’t know age or any other dimension but itself. It’s selfish toward selfishness, it’s rude towards sanity. It mocks it and makes it seem insane.

And if any of you think differently, you have never been loved and never truly loved someone.

The one love that feels so natural from the start, that you think you can conquer the world with that person beside you, is the love that rarely comes along – maybe once in a lifetime, if you get to be so lucky.

And you, the one I longed for, would be a crown of that pureness. A manifestation of everything we both combine.

But you didn’t happen. For all of the written reasons and unwritten guidelines, made for living zombies, who go through life and can’t wait for it to end.

Your laugh will continue to echo in my ears, just like your father’s will.

Forever will I hold you in my arms and sing you a lullaby, just like I sang it to my daughters. But this one would be a lullaby for the unborn child.

A boy born and raised only in my heart.