There are several things I have thought about writing, several times over. The one thought I started to jot down yesterday, titled The Last Waltz, can’t be found anymore.
My heart is split in two, a chaotic dichotomy between an overabundance of love and sadness so heavy it pulls me down towards the earth with every step.
The joy my baby love brings to me is immeasurable, but with him comes some pain: the sadness I feel because of my milk slowly drying up, his starting daycare next week, the physical longing I have for him throughout the day when I’m away from him.
It’s a hard act to juggle.