#Mastowriting #Writing #Depression #Trans
As a person who longs to hear the sound of tiny footsteps in the early mornings of the weekend, it saddens us to no end to know that joy will never happen to us. As we are incapable of love and care needed for someone as precious and delicate as a child. Our eyes tear up at the thought of never belonging to the world as a mother who loves their children. How can someone love those that need them to be cared for when you don't even love yourself.