First of May.
For the past few years she'd give me a card for a little kid. Someone exactly a decade younger than me. And then she'd write a "1" in front of every number or a "teen" after it depending on whether it was written or a numeral.
I got a card for an 8-year-old the other day. Did what she always did for me. Had to buy it before coming here so that no one would see me. I'm back home just for the day. Just so I could visit her. I left the card and some flowers by her grave. Cried. Sat there for an hour before I could tear myself away. I have to keep moving. This is the one place where I can't let anyone see me. I have to lay low.
Happy 18th birthday, Lily. I miss you.
