You know when you like, try to tell yourself a story? Like, a different story than what’s actually happening? It’s like when the city lights are SO bright you can barely see the stars, but you know they’re still there, right? You just can’t feel them. That’s kind of how it feels with my grandma. She’s, like, REALLY far away now. Started this new job, big deal, moved to a whole new coast. And I’m just here, kinda stuck, watching these little updates trickle in. At first it was just like, "oh, she’s using a cane now, just for balance." And I told myself, “Okay, a cane, whatever, old people do that.” Like it was just a new accessory or something. But then it was the walker, and now it’s like, a whole thing about her not being able to get up the stairs by herself. And my mom calls, trying to make it sound not-so-bad, but I can hear it in her voice. It's like the little cracks in the sidewalk, you know? You step over them at first, but then they just keep getting wider and wider, and you’re like, oh, I guess this whole thing is gonna break. And it’s kinda CRAPPY, because all I can think about is myself. I hate that. Like, I’m supposed to be worried about HER, but all I can feel is this really gross twist in my stomach about…me. About how I’m still here, stuck in school, going to parties, scrolling through TikTok, and she’s out there getting older and kinda…smaller? That’s how it feels. Like she’s shrinking. And I should be doing something, I guess. I should be thinking about flying out there, or calling her every day, or something. But it’s just so much. Rent here is insane, I barely have enough for my own stupid bus pass. And my friends are all talking about college visits and summer plans, and I just…can’t even. It’s like I'm trying to hold onto water, and it just keeps slipping through my fingers, and I can’t catch any of it. Sometimes you just feel this SHAME, right? Like a big heavy blanket over your whole head. Because you know what you *should* be doing, or what kind of person you *should* be, but you’re not. You’re just…you. And I guess I’m just this person who gets these messages, and feels kinda frozen. Like when the train speeds by so fast you can feel the wind but you can’t actually see anything clearly. And I just keep telling myself, "it’s fine, she’s fine, everything’s fine." But I know it’s not. And I kinda hate myself for it. It just feels too big to even touch.