If you know me, you know that I’m not about the fluff and not about the “jump on the bus” mentality. So take it as my word, and if it applies to you, thank me later, if not, keep looking.
I am medically known as a zebra, believe it or not this is actually relevant to this post and I will try to keep it short.
Happy Birthday my little Boy.
Today you are 22. I can’t touch you, hug you, or draw you a card. I can’t hear your voice or subject you to listening to my off key loud version of Happy Birthday. I haven’t seen you in just short of a year again. Last time I saw you, you were thinner, smaller, and still very angry with the 21 years of pain where I couldn’t make it better.
Don’t hate me because my brain is bigger than yours. There are so many other reasons that are I wont argue.
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