I think the whole world must think I am crazy for believing you are out there, somewhere. Maybe it is just the only damn way that I can cope, or maybe you really are there, waiting somewhere on the other side of this devastating mess. I have never dreamt someone so real in my life, that I never, ever will get the chance to meet.
You are small feet digging into the sand, an umbrella over a carseat to shield you from the South Florida sun, platinum blonde curls, high-pitched giggles, tailored baby outfits made just for you, tiny blue Nikes. You are a heartbreaker, the extra gel in pre-teen hair, acne, homework undone, the soccer field. You are a degree from my alma mater, backwards Dolphins’ hat, her smile when she fell for you in the law library.
When I was young, I imagined your all-white nursery with your initials in the wall as I took care of my favorite doll, Jenny the Gymnast. When I was a teenager I imagined you would be a boy that loved soccer and lived in a big city. When I was in college, you were half-Indian, half-Dutch and the most gorgeous thing to ever live. When I graduated, you became a spiritual, kind boy who loved everything about life as a UM graduate.
See, I already planned your entire life. So how could you not exist? How could you not arrive after all of the love I’ve already invested in you?
I think the whole world must think I am crazy, but that’s okay. It’s worth knowing that someday, when I am least expecting it, I will see you there, waiting for your mother.
And, my love, that is what I live for, forever and always.