death

and one die i will die.
but before that, perhaps, my parents will die.
and i will do something casual and normal, a memory coming to me, or just a thought of either of them. how they were alive. a life. I used to know them and love them, and still do.
and the memory. and the life. and all of it. everywhere.
so fucking sad.
and so fucking beautiful.
im not sure i'll be able to handle it. i'm not sure i can handle it.
like smoke, drifting up into the sky. you can't grab it and hold it. your hand breaks through it. but you love it. and it disappears. and doesn't care about you. at all.