Pulled by love
When things go wrong, I still think of her.
I want to call her and tell her.
I want her reassurance, and advice.
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She’s sometimes the first person I want to hear on the other end of the phone.
Please answer.
Please answer.
And she’s also the last person I want to feel my pain.
Don’t make her worry.
Don’t make her worry.
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But I call her anyway.
Because I know she will want to help.
And I know she will worry anyway.
The worry never stops.
But neither does the pull.
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I still gravitate to her.
Even though we are apart.
Even though all these years have passed.
Even though I’m an adult and I have my own children, and husband, and life to worry about.
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“I want to call mum”.
These are the words that came after some bad news.
And they made me realise.
I still need her.
I will probably always still need her.
Sometimes, somewhere, somehow.
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And I love that.
Because it means that maybe, just maybe, my children will always need me too.
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