It was not possible to overcome the wanting.
The wanting brought a foolish mistake and a serious error of judgement.
The error of judgement brought our world crashing down.
That crashed ended in a room and £30 a week and arguments and learning to talk, learning to forgive, learning to be grown ups.
Learning to be grown ups meant a new choice and some compromises (not mine mostly, I was very selfish) and a new baby.
And the baby – the baby supposed to be the new start, the proof that we had made it better – died in our arms.
If I could have overcome the wanting, that baby would have not been born, so he would not have died.
If that baby had not been born, he would not have died and we would not have discovered that we were far more than just two people who lived in a house.
If that baby had not died then the proof of solidarity, strength, love, maturity and forgiveness would not be there.
I wish he was here, but I cannot be sorry he was born. It’s a lot to lose in a life lesson though.
If he had not lived – and died – another baby would not have been born. With or without him, we would not have the other.
That baby has made us happy. What we know now is just how lucky we are, not only to have so much, but to live inside so much love.
Because of all that, I am happy. I am content. I know I am loved. I love loving.
It was rather a long path.
Was it worth it?
Can I justify it?
Is happy okay?
When I should have been happy, I was so often sad.
Now I should be mostly sad, but I’m nearly always happy.
That’s a bit of a strange thing.
It’s a wonder I have any brain left at all.
Mostly I try to stick to simple thoughts now. Like what’s for tea. It’s easier that way.