Ghosts in the machine
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
She exists.
I love her.
She is important beyond all measure.
I will never, ever get over this.
Beatrix is one of the greatest love stories of my life. The ones that get away always are.
I just wanted to remind myself that her birth and life are not a concept or a political argument, but that she was my daughter, just as much as the small girl sleeping next to me, is.
I can feel her weight.
I am so glad that she came.
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