Volumes

We have all been young once.

Let me take you back...

You are a baby.

Your mother is the only person you have ever known.

You love her body, her smell, and her clothes even though they are the same as yesterday.

But most of all you love the way she makes you feel.

When you are close to her you feel safe. Loved. Like you are home.

You watch her all day. From side to side you follow her with your eyes that care for no one else.

She’s always doing so much. You don’t understand why yet, but you wish she would stop more and spend time with you instead.

The highlight of your day is when your eyes meet.

That makes you smile - Inside and out.

You feel so connected.

This feels like her love language, and her love speaks volumes.

When nighttime comes everything becomes dark. You can’t see her anymore. You feel frightened.

So you search for her.

Cry for her.

Plead for her to help you find your way back home.

And she does.

She invites you in, as always.

She feeds you, cuddles you and then you rest.

You fall into a dream on her soft stomach, underneath her heavy eyes, surrounded by her inward thoughts about her new body.

To you, she’s heaven.

You want to tell her that.

But you can’t.

Not yet.

So you try to show her the only way you know how - by needing her.

This is your love language.

And all you can hope is that it speaks volumes too.