I fell in love with a boy.

And that moment I first saw him?

I was done.

Completely enamored.

Entirely devoted.

I’d never been more certain.

More determined.

More terrified that I wouldn’t be everything he needed me to be.

And I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

I knew we’d have our ups and downs.

Highs and lows.

But I knew we were meant for each other.

Made for each other.

That every hard and messy and exhausting and frustrating moment would be worth it.

Because this was how it was always meant to be.

That we’d get through it all.

Together.

Stronger.

Better.

But I still don’t think I ever understood the way my heart would feel about him.

How he’d have the ability to both burst and break it, all at the same time.

How I’d sacrifice so much of what I expected for myself to do what was best for him.

How I’d be wholly changed by him.

Permanently transformed, in the most magnificent way.

And I don’t think he’ll understand my love for him.

Not for a long time, at least.

But I don’t need him to.

Because I’m just so very grateful.

So very grateful to have fallen in love with a boy.

A boy that calls me “Mom.” 

Originally published on Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward