I can’t believe my grandma is dead I can’t believe I can hardly count up all the times within the last 4 months that I actively did not pick up the phone when she would call me. I am sick with how disgusting I feel it really did not sink in until like 20 minutes ago that I’m not gonna go see her again. When I was little and we were living in San Diego she flew 12 hours to come see me and we would walk to McDonalds together and I would try to teach her English. When my dad went to her apartment to get some of her personal stuff she had albums of pictures of me and my great aunt said whenever someone would come over she would bring them out and say “that’s my granddaughter”. The last time I saw her around 2 years ago she said she regrets that she worried about how her makeup looked so much.
I want you to fall in love with me more than once. I want you to wake up next to me in twenty years and still be surprised by how pretty my eyes look when the sun comes up. I want you to see me walking across the street and have your heart skip a beat even though you know you’re coming home to me and we’ve been living together for the past thirty-five years. I want the excitement, the rush, the purity of falling in love and getting sweaty palms when you reach to touch my fingertips with yours. I want you to hear your heart beat a little bit louder for me every day that we’re together.