He doesn’t comment on my photos telling me how “gorgeous” or “hot” I am to him, and I don’t get the “I love you too, baby’s” whenever I post something admiring him.
We played phone tag for hours and then he texted me a text I hope no one ever has to receive from someone they love and miss: “Still not working. Phone’s going to die. If this goes through, I love you.”
"It should have been written 50 years ago. It's a conversation between God and this unborn child about ready to go down to earth. And when God describes what a mom is...whew, it kills me.”
