I had it all figured out …

My age when you was going to be conceived and when you were to be born.

The names you was gonna get and what they meant, whether you was gonna be a boy or a girl.

I drooled about the pictures I was gonna take while you was tickling my belly from the inside.

I imagined how that would feel like and at times I could really imagine these feelings as if it was already happening.

I already decided what kind of birth I was gonna have and how painful but yet magical it was gonna be.

I even already decided who your daddy was gonna be from the very first moment we exchanged butterflies in our bellies.

I decided on the diapers you were going to wear, the foods you were going to eat.

Vaccinations, religion and schooling. On that I couldn’t decide, cause I was going to love your purity.

But here I am mourning you when you were never even here.

It doesn’t even make sense to miss someone you’ve never even met.

Sometimes I think I’m crazy for making all this up in my mind, my imaginary child.

I want to let it go, cause every now and then it hurts like hell. But somehow my imagination is the only thing I have of you and you’re missed.

Maybe I wasn’t ready for you or you weren’t ready for me, that’s okay.

Take all the time you need and I’ll take mine.

Even without ever having met you, I imagine you touching my heart with every ray of sunshine.

I do still hope I will get to meet you someday…

If not in this life, than in another.

If not while awake, than in my dreams.