June’s Entry
June’s Entry
Place: Hospital
The mother of my children,
Damn, girl. You did that shit like a champ. The way you carried the birth of our twins like a queen is something I will never forget. Trusting me to help deliver our fucking seeds was something I didn’t think would happen in my lifetime.
As I sit here and watch you and the boys sleep, a nigga’s heart feels so full.
Z, this is some shit I never felt before.
This is a different type of love, some next-level type of love, a love I never want to not feel.
I have a family, something to call my own, and coming from a place of nothing, this can only be described as royalty.
Then, Samara has taken on the last name of a man who doesn’t exist. How will I tell her?
Huh? That shit breaks my heart because she really sees us as her parents.
It’s crazy because she and I are somewhat alike; the only difference is that she doesn’t have to go her entire life without knowing what genuine family feels like because we are that for her. I fucks with it.
Damn.
As I watch Peace and Savior, I think about all the things I want to be for them.
I want to be the type of father who watches them grow, step by step.
I don’t want to miss anything. I want to show them that fear should never exist because as long as I can, I will take their fear on.
Show them that love does exist and that although we may give tough love, it doesn’t mean we love them any less.
I’m scared for my little Black sons. I’m scared for their life experiences, their trials, and their safety. You know, I don’t really deal with my fears much, but being a parent, this shit is almost instant. Fuck, Z, I… I…
You know what? I will say it in the next letter because saying what I have to in this moment just doesn’t feel right. I just hope cancer doesn’t find my kids. It’s something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy—well, maybe Clark, but not my fucking kids.
Baby, every day I have breath in my body, I will keep our family safe. That is my muhfuckin’ word.
Thank you, Zaria, for trusting me to be your kids' father. Thank you for trusting me with your heart. Thank you for taking a little broken hood nigga and showing him what love looks like on the other side. Thank you for pushing this boy to become a man.
I love you. I love you, and I’ll love you all over again.
Signed,
Mr. Fucking Calloway… I guess.