Today, I miss you. I miss you a lot. I miss you more than any words can ever say, and I miss you more than I have ever missed anyone in my life. I am physically hurting this very moment. I tried to occupy my mind, not because I want to run away, but because I really want to be able to focus on what’s really me and what’s confusing me. I’ve even tried singing, but that feeling won’t go away. It won’t even fade.
I’m not even crying. I feel like I am, but I’m not. I miss your voice. I miss holding your hands, probably the softest hands I’ve ever held. Indeed, they were skinny by the end, but I loved holding them. I could sit there for hours and just hold them while you slept. I never wanted you to feel alone when grandpa wasn’t there.
Most of these days have felt like I’ve been this busy grandchild that is too busy with life to have you fit in it. It was like that for a while, back when I tried to get my thesis going. Back when Zoe was so little, and hadn’t started at daycare yet. I’ve pretended like life had me busier than ever, making me unable to visit you, like you were still here. I’ve denied, and I’m now bargaining.
When I got that text from my uncle, that said you weren’t gonna make it, I was still positive. I knew you were a fighter, and I am glad I told you all those things that day. All about how much I love you, how much I will always love you, how much I admire you, how bad I felt for not seeing you at least once a week. And I told you, how you couldn’t leave grandpa behind. He’d break.
All those times we went to the annual festival in town, and strolled around 12 hours a day, all seven days. I still remember how we walked around, tasting everything, and did all those things grandparents do with their grandkids. I loved, and still love, all those moments.
And that time when I crashed my bike into a hedge of thorns. Nasty crash. I was five, and had just gotten my first bike. A purple/black little mountain bike-like thing. My dad thought I had it, and let go. I did not have control at all. Especially not in that downhill. So, evidently, I crashed. I remember crying as I ran toward the elevator and went back up to where you were. You patched me up, and told me it’d be alright because it always would be.
Or when I got really sick for the first time after my parents moved out. You and grandpa took care of me while my folks were at work. All I wanted was to watch TV or lie in bed, while the two of you insisted I should eat, get massages, and not force myself to watch TV. Well, you did all that the first day. The second day, both of you forced me to go outside because “fresh air gets you better faster”. I still heed to that today, and I’m infinitely thankful for it.
I hate being reminded of you not being here anymore. I still want to hear your voice. I still want to hug you, and kiss your cheeks. I want to stand up, but I can’t. Not right now. I want to, because my course mates seem to be great people, and I can’t connect to new people like I did. I hate it, because I like being social. I want to get back so bad, but today, I miss you too much.
//c_Cae; when the lyrics hits too close to home…