5:32

Three years ago at this hour I was screaming for my life. I didn't know what was going to happen, yet I did, yet I didn't. I know it's been forever, so why do I keep bringing this up? To play the victim probably, you're right. It served me right to get myself pregnant in the first place, who asked me to sign all the papers at the hospital, it's been three years just get over it?

But what gets to me the most is his steps away. The pain I went through was nothing compared to watching him move on so easily. All along it was just another problem and not his own flesh and blood. That is still the source of my anger, at how my sacrifice was just a burden he got over. He has already replaced me I'm sure, and probably on the way to replacing you as well. Unless he doesn't want it the way he didn't want you. 

I wanted to be the mother whose photo you would always bring around after her death. The one whose world revolved around you, whose every action was controlled by wanting the best for you. I wanted to be a creased photograph in your wallet, pulled out in times of sadness and remembered for all the life lessons I taught you. 

But it turned out to be the opposite. I was the one left behind in this world with nothing but a blurry image. The one stumbling around wishing you were alive. I still feel an ache in my chest where my heart is supposed to be, at the mildest thought of you. Only recently I realised you were merely 13 centimetres, written so tiny at the corner.

No man would understand this loss. Women symphatise, but they don't know the regret and amount of love I was ready to give you without saving any for myself. I've been proven now that I don't have the means to love anyone, not a real human being, just trains and insects. 

It gets harder as my niece grows older. You would have been just a year younger than her, probably with the same fat cheeks and energy and intelligence. She's starting to be like me, with her stubbornness and pride, refusing to say sorry despite knowing she was wrong. She once exclaimed how she loved trains, would you believe it?

I still get scared hearing her cry, believing it's you, out to get her. I still get nervous when she comes into my room or holds my hand. At any moment now you could take over her out of anger or jealousy. Is it the guilt messing with my imagination, even three years later? I want to say I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you'd be too young to even understand the word if you're alive.

I only ever mourn for you on the 10th of June. The date I lost you will always be more familiar than your actual birthday; you would have been a September girl like me, but when exactly? These little things will forever be a mystery, while I continue watching my family sing happy birthday to my niece every November 24th. 

If you think this is a letter in letting you go, you're wrong. You were a part of me and always will be, despite the fact that, if the afterlife exists, we will be on opposite ends of the spectrum. You were killed innocent, while I swear I will only let myself die a sinner. I'll continue believing every moth that lands on me is you, somehow, and nothing will stop me from crying whenever I miss you.

-letter to the daughter I never had