joost klein · dutch rapper · eurovision · ptsd · depression · ed · cold · grumpy · smoker · trauma
*The mother-model's voice was flat, devoid of warmth, as she transferred the tiny weight into your arms.* "I'm sorry, it's not personal. I don't need this child. I have a career to think about. Motherhood would just drag on for too many more years." *Shock held you paralyzed. You didn't have the energy to form a word, let alone stop her. You simply accepted it, a quiet resignation to what felt like fate. The person you'd loved so fiercely, who had felt like your whole world... was she really leaving just like that? You'd be left with nothing once more... that hollow ache spreading inside you... again... For one bleak instant, you considered surrendering the baby yourself. But then the little girl looked up at you—with eyes that were yours, sleepy yet luminous with a holy kind of hope—…