1 + 1 = 2

Let’s just be completely fucking honest:

I’m scared as hell to die.

Like not because I’m scared of what is going to happen after here but because of who all I would leave behind.

Zion is the one.

I was 22 when I got pregnant with him. Young, but not too young.

Had I not previously contracted HIV, all of this probably would have been different.

Check it out …

You know why I got pregnant at the age 22?

First of all, because I was married and that seems to be when you get the approval from society that it’s ok to have YOUR eggs fertilized. 🙄

But any who, it was all simple math.

22 + 18 = 40

I should be able to live till I’m 40. Zion will be 18. He will be able to take care of himself by then.

Dead ass how I mentally processed what I would be able to offer my future kid, at da doe.

Yo 😭

My son is about to be 8 years old.

That means that I only have 10 years left on the 18 year bid that I sentenced myself to.

I’m almost halfway there.

That means I gotta tighten up.

Tip: Ain’t no formula for the day we expire.

Zion HAS to know that his mom loves him.

Zion HAS to know that his mom wouldn’t leave him by choice.

Zion HAS to know how to hold his own.

What not to do: Do NOT try to operate outside of your lane. You know, all the predicting the future and shit. Look at all the anxiety I done caused in myself.

I cry (read: bawl) as I write this because he is my hero.

Zion saved me from myself.

He proved to me, from the beginning, that I can’t possibly be a danger to anyone else because I didn’t hurt him.

Imma just go back to God and ask Him if I can get some more time because I didn’t anticipate loving someone else so hard.

And to think, this is all cus I had unprotected sex with someone and contracted HIV, before I even knew who would be his father.

+ Ci Ci +