Listening to: Slipped Away - Avril Lavinge
He's gone, he's not coming back, I went into hysterics. and he's gone, and I didn't say goodbye, and it just hurts, it hurts so fucking bad.
I have no tears left.
I can't do this. I can't deal.
It's 3.41 AM. I suppose I should explain.
My Grandpa died. Not my Grandpa who's spent the last year and a half in and out of the hospital. No, my healthy, strong, just-spent-a-month-and-a-fucking-half-on-the-boat Grandpa. He was supposed to take me to Montreal. He was supposed to give me a ride to school. He was supposed to take me to Marineland.
My mom came in and told me.
I went into hysterics. I have lost an Aunt and an Uncle before, just as suddenly.
But I went into hysterics. I couldn't type. I couldn't see. My hands have NEVER shaken that badly. Ever. I have done stupid things, and I have done scary things, and I have had scary moments. My hands have never shaken that bad. He's not supposed to be gone.
I didn't hug him. I'm so self-centered that I just banged my way out of the house, pissed off because I lost my fucking high speed.
Yeah. I am that selfish.
The last thing he ever said to me?
Are you hungry or something?
The last thing I ever said back?
I didn't even say goodbye when I left.
I didn't even say I love you.
I haven't hugged him in over a month.
I don't get to hug him ever again.
What about fucking Marineland?