How am I supposed to do this? Let her go.
There was a time when she was always in my arms. On me. Next to me. When she started to crawl, she was always in my line of sight. When she started to walk, she always ran back to me.
Now she waves me away so that she can go and join her friends. Backpack on, her snacks tucked inside her new and much treasured little bento boxes, she leaves me standing in the gym while she makes her own adventures.
The boy stands beside me. Always with me. For now, anyway.