On Purpose

~Before~

My grandpa was the nicest man alive, most importantly, he loved me more than anyone. Since I was the only child, I got all of his love, plus my grandmother's. What more can a child ask for?
While I did love my grandmother, my grandpa meant more to me than my dinosaurs.
He was like the sun, I looked up to him and smiled whenever I was with him.
He took me to a library once and told me that everything a book does, a computer can do a million times better.
While my mom disagreed, my grandpa didn't care. His motto was; "if it isn't hurting you, or anyone else, do what you want."
So that's what I did. I stopped caring what people said about me, I simply lived my own life when I was four, young and dumb, that's what grandpa said I'd grow up to be. A young and dumb man who won't give a damn about other people's opinions. He was right about two things; I'm young and dumb, but I started caring about what people thought about me when I started middle school.
On my fifth birthday, grandpa couldn't make it to my birthday party because he got sick, I knew he was fine, because the sun goes down, but it comes up again. He was completely fine, the sun doesn't die.
I was wrong.
After breaking my mom's window, my dad gave her the money for it to get fixed, then took me to the hospital to see him. He was sitting up in bed when we walked in, my dad kissed my grandma's cheek then I gave her a big hug how I always do.
"Come give your old pops a hug too, Liver."
I loved that name, because he always said I was a free spirit, I was a liver and not a what if-er, (that's what he said, word for word).
Not only that, but I can't spell my name without it.
I jumped up on bed, my dad grabbed me by the armpits to stop me.
"Slow down, Oliver, you might hurt him."
I didn't care what my dad said, I just wanted to hug my grandpa, my sun and the reason why I smiled.
"Hey." He said when I wrapped my small arms around his neck.
"Do you have marshmallows?" I asked in my cute five year old voice.
"Can't you say hi to me first?" He raised a grey-haired eyebrow with a smirk.
"Hi, grandpa." I say, and sit on the edge of his bed.
"That's much better." He held then tapped his chin.
"Now where did I put that marshmallow?" He looked around, then snapped. "I remember, look in your backpack."
My dad always carried my backpack, I always kept my toys in there, I know because I back it every day before leaving the house.
My dad heard my grandpa mention the backpack, so he holds the strap with one hand and use the other to grab the zipper.
My small green eyes began to widen when I saw my dad pull out a pack of marshmallows. Usually I can only have three marshmallows because my dad and my mom hates it when I'm bouncing off the walls when I get home.
Today I got a whole bag! Every kid's dream.
My grandpa laughed. "Remember, three, don't sit and eat it all, or your parents will kill me...they won't have to worry about that, God is doing it for them."
I knew that was a bad thing to say, because my dad looked at him and said, "Dad." His voice was deep and hard.
"I'm only joking Ethan, calm down." He laughed again, this time it ends with him coughing a wet and hard cough. The ones that sound like it comes from your chest and leaves your heart stinging.
"Here, lie down." My grandma placed another pillow over the one his back was propped up on and my grandpa lays back.
"Hey, Liver." My grandpa said, once he got a sip of water.
"Yes?" I asked, looking down at him how my mom did when she told me bedtime stories.
"You're gonna go far, but don't go too far where you can't find yourself. Go far enough where you can find a place to stay, and just...live."
That was the very last thing my grandpa said to me before he died two days later.
My grandmother, being so heartbroken, died the same day.
I didn't know what true pain was when he died. My sun set and didn't rise again.