He sat there head in hand. Trying, as he often did, to make stories about her into memories. Because if someone tells you enough stories they start to feel real. They start to feel like you experienced those things.
So he tried.
They happily were together at every important moment in his life. She was his biggest fan and his biggest supporter. Cheering at every graduation, front and center at school plays and football games.
He was the source of her pride. She was the purpose of his life.
He tried as hard as he could to erase the images of the person in front of him and inject the ideal....the dream.
He knew of the stories of the perfect couple. A perfect time in their perfect lives.
He could only imagine how shaken she must have been when she found out that her life would never be the same.
Did she hate the fact that giving birth to him, meant that she might lose her own life?
Wait...those weren't the things he was supposed to be thinking.
Head in hand he needed to place her in his best memories.
He needed to feel that connection. He needed it before it was too late.
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