Life of a Nin(j)a

Hey Grandma

Sorry that I wasn’t there. 

We never really talked very much. But what you have probably forgotten is that I remember how you used to make the same egg and garlic toast that I loved every morning I visited..

I remember how you’d always praise my beauty and intelligence and would do anything to support me. 

But you grew old, and sick… Alzheimers attacked the insides of your mind and you forgot…you’d always forget..

but I just wanted to say, I hope you’re in a better place now. Thank you..for the memories, and the love and the support. You are missed.

RIP.

Love is intoxication. But baby, when you’ve been hurt like me, it’s easy to sober up fast from even the slightest push towards that ledge. Shame on you for the first time. Shame on me for all the rest. 

You meant the world to me. You set my heart in motion—something no one could do for me after all the pain the others gave me. 

But you decided to push it off, brush it off

like it meant nothing

like I was nothing

I hate to push the ones I love to be something, to do something, they’d think was not worth it. 

And I’m not convinced anymore.