P. S. I Love You

P. S. I Love You

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Oct 13, 2013
Dear Erin, What I’ve realized is that love is not limited by time or space or age. It is the highest expression of human emotion. When it’s given purely, without expectation of return, and accepted freely, without parameter and conditions, it is a gift unto itself. I’ve discovered that true love transcends the self and makes a person the better for having touched it. Each person must learn that nothing can break love’s bond, not even the face of death, and that this is one treasure that makes life beautiful. You know me like a mirror and read me like a book, but I’m afraid that once you reach the chapter of Ugly you’d leave me. So I’m sorry for not telling you until now. Truly, Daniel P.S. I Love You
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In agony I deliver the children of faceless, infertile clients. To them I am nothing more than a vessel, bearing the fruit they so wish to carry within themselves. They love me for my ability, and they hate me for it. This is why I am hidden away here in the Factory where they cannot see my rounded stomach, swollen with their life. When the life inside me is gone, birthed into their eagerly-waiting arms, I will be left with nothing. I will be impregnated again, and again, until my body is ruined and I am sent away. I should question this system, this ritualistic rending of my heart, but I do not-in fact, I volunteered for this job. And now, six babies later, I am afraid to leave. It is better to carry life, even temporarily, than to have never carried it at all.

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