He's next to me on the couch hunched over his computer, working. Periodically he looks up reads a part of his writing in English and asks, eso suena bien? I say yes, he goes back to typing. Books and toys are strewn across the living room, I'll put them in the woven basket marked with her name before I head to bed. He rubs my feet through the woven blanket. When I look at him I'm amazed.
Amazed by his strength and dedication. He was worked so hard physically, mentally, emotionally so that we can sit on this couch together, so that we can be here, in this simple moment.
I wonder how we got here. Fate? Destiny? Choice? Hardwork? Sacrifice? Love?
Maybe it's all of those things.
Maybe it's none of them.
Maybe we got here because it was our way, the only way and this is our present.
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