People like me, we love in a voluntary confinement and avoidance to verbalize — so we don’t put our hearts on the line, so we minimize risk. But it is because I loved you so quietly that I often judge and hate myself. — October 9th, 2020 Dear grandma, I don’t know where you are, but I know I don’t have an address to send you this letter. I don’t know if you can feel anything, but I’ve got to pour my heart out somewhere in hopes that somehow, you can.