I Hope It's The Grief

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I haven't wanted to admit it,
Until now,
But I think,
When my grandpa died,
A part of me did too.

I'm not peppy,
Or social,
Or as sweet as I once was.

Really,
I'm not innocent anymore.

I used to call my grandpa every Sunday
And he would tell me,
"Whew! I'm worn out just listening to you.
You do more in a day than I do in a whole week!"
And he would marvel
At how cheerful I was
And murmur that I never had a bad day.

I had bad days.

But as far as my grandpa was concerned?
Never.
I never had a bad day.
He helped me see the good
In everything,
Because to him,
My life was sweet,
Busy, social, Christ-centered,
And innocent.

He's dead now. 

I have a hard time
Wanting to be social.
I feel a lot colder than I used to.

I'm scared it's adulthood,
I hope it's the grief.

09/01/23

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