Надявам се някой ден да мога да ти кажа това, но с мои думи…
So I am yours, as long as I live, and then some.
It does not work the other way. It shouldn’t. You are mine, but you are not mine to keep.
I know my job description cold. My job is to use the “my” pronoun gently. “My” daughters. “My” girls. I use “my” for the sake of convenience, and as a reflection of my stunned pride that such beautiful bright creatures passed through me on the way to this lifetime. But you belong to you, in the end. And I want to teach you to belong to you.