Looking at Felix fall asleep on his fifth birthday, I had a pang of loss, realizing he is at the start of peeling away, slowly slowly, away from needing his mother. He is set to be more and more independent with each passing month and year. I can see the man he is becoming in his little face, peaceful in slumber but already strong and resolute in his identity.
It is an unavoidable part of my job to prepare him to individuate and eventually thrive without me. It is such a bittersweet proposition. I've seen it coming from the start, but the milestone of five years seems substantial. He could survive now even without me, if he had to. That's not in any of my plans, but at least I finally have my life insured.
I love my boy more than life itself, and I will be with him as long as he wants. He was worried one night that I didn't like him anymore (I took a bit longer to come to bed), and I assured him, "don't worry, you'll get sick of me long before I leave you!"
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