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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