Alta

Last night was the first time I saw him. He had white skin that could be compared to Snow White. He had a little round face, with chubby cheeks. He had the warmest body I had ever known. He had the most miraculous smile. He looked like his father. He was just like his father's toddler self. He was about two and a half years old. He charmed me the first time we met.

He made me smile. He reminded me of his father. He strengthen my body. He gave me the spark of happiness I didn't know before.

He didn't tell me that he was my son, for I didn't tell him that I strongly felt and believed that I was his mother. All I knew was that when he smiled at me and I smiled back, we knew that we were connected. I knew that he was mine. He knew. I could see his father inside him, and that made me very grateful.

I have only seen him once in my dream. I know that he might not be real. I know that there is a possibility that he might not be my son, and I might not be his mother. But I can't explain it. I feel a connection between me and him, even though he is not real. I hope that he is not real yet. Now I know why all mothers feel that their newborns are the loveliest. Now I know why all mothers fall in love with their newborns the first time they see them. Because even though I am not a mother, I felt that love for the child I saw in my dream. The child I believed to be mine and his. I loved him. I love him, even though I might not be able to see him anymore in my dreams. I love him, although he might not be real. I could still feel it inside my heart and through my veins. I love you, Alta. Even if you're not real and I cannot see you anymore, I will always love you. I know that.