my co-worker was telling me about how her mom gave her two pounds of this salad she liked from jewel and it made me think of my mom. how she'd know what to get for me at the grocery store, at the drive-thru, or even at the randomest store (she'd buy me a little random knick knack she found amusing because she knew i would find it funny too). she used to separate my picadillo from the rest of the batch before she added raisins cuz she knew i hated them. she would set aside a portion of any dish that contained liver before she added it cuz she knew liver made me gag.
she knew what i liked to eat, how i liked to be treated when i was on my emo bullshit, who i didn't want to talk to (without even asking me), which jokes would make me laugh, what to say to make my worries go away, how to tell me i was being a crazy idiot without calling me a crazy idiot, how to hug me so that I wouldn't feel alone... she just knew me.
i miss amy.
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