I found my son. After nearly 20 years of searching and wondering. I had no one to ask.
He lives just 50 miles away.
I was a non-mother. I left when he was just 5. Broke my heart, never to mend.
I was a mess, running from my own childhood.. running from myself. It doesn't work.
My mind is filled with unrest. He made it clear, all those years ago, that he wasn't interested in trying to reunite. He was a young adult at the time. Even though I searched for him, I wanted to respect his wishes. He moved around, so I never knew where he was. I always wondered what I'd do if I ever found him.
What I do now, I really don't know.