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Some 3 1/3 years ago I wrote the piece found below. I’d completely forgotten about it until an email from Blogger warned me that my old URL was up for review as a spam blog. Sorting out the issue prompted a protracted trek through old posts which had been offline for at least a couple years now, this one included.

At that point I was being deliberately vague about certain experiences, so vague in fact that people thought this post was about a lover. Actually it was written in an attempt to remind myself that my son’s placement with me was almost certainly temporary and that I had to be ready to release him to his mother or father as soon as they were ready to care for him.

Please don’t judge the writing too harshly as I was suffering from end-stage sleep deprivation and stress. Enjoy.

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His heart is completely mine now, but sooner or later, he’ll leave me.

He has to. He has a family of his own and other people to love. Other commitments. Really I am nothing to him, nothing but a small distraction, for the moment, for the time being. It’s only temporary. A short-term fix. Something to get him through. It’s not permanent.

He will leave me. I have to get that through my thick skull.

I’m going to miss him so much when he’s gone. It hasn’t been a long relationship but already he’s marked me, permanently. He’s grabbed my heart so strongly that it’s bruised–forever, I think. His face will never be out of my mind. His welfare will never be far from my thoughts.

But he will leave me. I have to remember that.

I know that no one can take care of him like I can–physically and emotionally. I’m very good at what I do. He has a calmness and peace around him that I know blows away completely when he goes back to her. I can give that to him better than anyone else.

But it’s not about winning in the race to take care of him better, I know. He has a commitment to his family. He’ll go back there no matter how well I take care of him.

I love him. His smell is on me all the time. I have to wonder if anyone else can notice it. Do they see my long dark hair on him? Do they know it belongs to me? His family is all blond–they have to suspect. Can they smell me on him? Do they know it’s my smell? How integral is our connection that other people wouldn’t notice? They have to know.

But when he’s gone for good, that connection will dissolve. I’ll remember it. No doubt about that. Will he? Have I marked him as much as he’s marked me? Probably not. And that is probably for the best. When he’s done with me, he has to go back to his family and rebuild things there.

This is only temporary…I have to remember that. It’s only for now. Right this moment. It could end in an instant.

I’ll remember everything about him. I’ll remember the feeling of his bones against my hand. His heart beating against my chest. His breath on my neck. The pleasure I’ve had in meeting his needs–the needs he couldn’t get met at home, by her. There is a great deal of pleasure in being able to give him things I know he can’t get from her. A twisted pleasure I suppose, but I’ll take it.

Call it foolish or brash, but I’ve allowed things of his to collect in my house. I see them everywhere. When the end comes, I’ll have to gather them into a box and store it where no one can find it. Especially where I can’t find it.

His heart is mine now. But soon, too soon, he’ll leave. He has to. There’s no way that this will last. There’s no happily ever after. No forever. I’ve made the choice, at the moment, to accept now and not hope for forever.

Misguided, you say?

That is entirely possible.