Spring is a difficult time.
My husband has locked himself in the library. I can hear him crying sometimes if I am near.
Sometimes I wonder if I should not have married him. If he would have had a better chance with someone else.
(My lover says ‘not chance. The chance is that he’d be dead.’ I should listen to her. We plan and act for best likelihood, that is what we can do. It does not feel sufficient.)
(...And if we are by some chance somehow granted a permission someday, it will still not be the child he truly wants. It can never be.)













