Grandma was getting fed up with my becoming-small-appetite. You know... old people just wanna see you eat. Hey but seriously! Have no idea if it's related to this depression shit or what.

I smell food and I'm just done. You can use the fucking smell to feed me and I'll feel ok with it. Ghrelin right? Something inhibited the secretion of it.

Maybe my appetite left me when you did.

"Time takes the time time takes."
I love the sound of your laughs. We'll find our way back to each other. And when we did, we could laugh together again. Maybe, that me who used to crave for food will return too.