PMS

Dear Grandpa,


PMS


Girls hate it, boys dread it, friends prepare for it. I know I have been PMSing because, hell, who else cryes to Melanie and Marko's dance routine on SYTYCD? I eat too much, I whine too much, I hate too much. It's pretty much a major downhill in every month of every year of every woman's menstrual life. 


Grandpa, I know you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, but for all of the other ladies out there, I think you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about when I say that men PMS too! Maybe it's not the same time, or reason, but men have a tendency to get particularly needy, annoying, and emotional at least once every month. For example, Daddy got extremely mad today, with good reasons, but not good enough to get to the level of anger he did today. I'm pretty sure the two hours of traffic we sat in coming home is a good base of all of this anger, but this wouldn't be the first time he sat in that amount of traffic this month either. Also, where the feelings might simmer down the next day, he continues to hold grudges and walk around, thinking "I am totally on the right page here and the rest of the world is wrong." 


I know what you're thinking, Grandpa:  PMS is all in the science and I'm silly to think that boys PMS. Well, I think it has a lot to do with mother nature and I have a hard time thinking that she would make things so unfair (that combined with the fact that she is a woman!!) It might have a different name and different scientific reasoning, but the conclusion to this letter here is that boys PMS just like girls do. The end!


Love always,
Your granddaughter


P.S. Here is the dance routine just in case you're PMSing and feel the need to cry :)

It's not the end of the world

Dear Grandpa,


It's not the end of the world. Since Monday, when I was furious at my parents... and the world for being stupid, those 7 words have been repeating in my mind constantly. I'm not sure how they got into my head, but everytime I think of "It's not the end of the world," I relax. It feels like someone pulled the plug to all of the pressure that was rising in my chest and let it ooze and settle.


Thank you for helping me, Grandpa. Mom tells me that you always knew just what to say and do and I completely understand. I might not have believed in ghosts and angels before, but I believe in you. 


Love always,
Your granddaughter

Freedom rant

Dear Grandpa,


Before I start my rant, let me start by telling you this:  I am a 20 year old girl who gets straight A's, doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, barely parties, practically lives at home (even during college), and has been the most easy going college student a parent could ask for. Then again, you probably already know this.


So why am I being treated like a 15 year old! I feel like I am under house arrest because I have to ask if I can go into the city with her (I don't even know WHY I have to ask) only to be denied almost everytime. I can't go shopping by myself because I HAVE to spend time with Mom. Now, I can't even have friends over the house to hang out?! Give me a break. I am sick of being at home and, for once, I actually want to be a 20 year old... is that such a shocker?


I need to leave this house and, when I do, I'm not coming back for a while. All of this pulling me in business is just pushing me farther away and I need my space to grow.


Please help me, Grandpa.


Love always,
Your granddaughter

Stress

Dear Grandpa,

It has been a while since we've talked. I won't waste the time we have together to come up with excuses, just know that I'm sorry. I miss you so very much.

I have been so stressed out, Grandpa. Between all of the decisions I have to make, trying to make everyone happy, and preparing for my third year of school, I can't seem to think for myself. I always have to try to fix things and that can build up on a person. You're probably the only person I ever share all of my secrets to, be it through my prayers or through our letters. You have made mistakes and learned the consequences, you have seen me change from light-up sketchers to stiletto heels, you loved your family with all of your heart, but most of all, you are so much more than my grandpa. You listen until my voice is hoarse and let me figure out things on my own so I grow to be a better person. Most of all, Grandpa, you know all of me and still love me unconditionally; I feel it everytime I doubt myself. 

So I'll tell you everything. I don't know if I'm making the right choices for my future, my heart, or my family. I am mad that Grandma wont come home to us and that Mom isn't pushing it hard enough. I feel trapped in my parent's expectations and I can't escape that feeling. I hate not knowing what the future will bring and hate hearing everyone to tell me to be patient. I don't know if I have all of the faith I need to push myself in school and my priorities have been flipped upside down. I wonder what it would be like to be drunk and I hate that I'm even considering that. I feel too old for my body and I am pressured to be older than I already am. I used to play the piano, or listen to music, or run until my knees could give out to clear my mind, but now, they all force me to analyze even more. Even Chris Brown can't give me advice on what to do and that has NEVER happened.

I wish I could hold your purple-veined hand and consume all of my thoughts with you; whether you are hungry, or tired, or cold, or comfortable. I wish I could write poems again. I wish I wouldn't look in the mirror and wish I had a face other than my own. I wish I stopped listening to such sad songs. I wish I could tell Mom that she needs to give me a little room to grow. I wish I ran to your room when Grandma called and called 911 as soon as I saw you instead of composing myself first.

I could have fixed you.

Love always,

Your granddaughter