dear son,

i probably don’t deserve the life you have graciously given up for me.  or i’ve chosen to selfishly take back. i’m forever wounded, you must know that. i walk around feeling completely unable to steer clear of the past everyone has asked me never to look back at. how could i not? it was a minute greed that overpowered everything else; it never opted to leave a piece of me or you.

sometimes, when i think i’ve moved on, i feel like i’m repeating the betrayal. i took what should’ve been yours. you were probably the mistake that i was willing to live with but was too afraid to keep. and i can’t, for the life of me, be someone else without you.

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