I've been quiet for quite a while and not because I have nothing to say. Maybe there are subtitle emotions I'm not able to put in writing or maybe I'd just need to write them down in my mother tongue. It's been 6 months last week and I realised it while I was in a sunny square with someone I really love. I felt sad and happy and sad at the same time. It wasn't supposed to be this way, no, but we need to go on. Not to move on but to go on, me and who is with me in this very moment, in the hope that my gorgeous boy watches over us.
I've been overpowered after those days by a sense of unreality. What's my motherhood? does it all come down to the washing and ironing of little clothes? has it ever been real? will it ever be? All these questions dance in my mind and I feel immensely exhausted, like someone who already jumped too many hurdles and has so many in front of that she doesn't even begin to count.