Dear Grandpa,

I regretted everything. Probably. I'm sorry I was blinded by hatreds, the stubbornness and the coward-ness of a kid that I refused to visit you in the last moment of your life.

I never understand if I loved you or not. And I probably will never understand why you loved me although I was nothing but an ungrateful kid.

I do like you. But to say I love you is a bit much. Grief is such a weird thing because why do I cry whenever I think of you. And why do my heart feels so heavy whenever I thought of what I did. I cry about you but I do not wish you to be alive. I don't get myself all the time. However, in the end, I'm still the disgusting child that never visited you.

I have no memory of you but the only time I've ever felt loved. When I say I like you a dish and the next time I visit you, you made a tons of it just for me to enjoy.

At that moment, I know clearly you love me. You shouldn't have loved me. I wonder if you ever think of me in the last moment of your life.

I hope it's hatreds. I hope you hated me for that.

That might take some guilt of my chest.

Though it won't change the fact that I'm a monster.

I hate the family you adored so much. I don't deserve your love.

Grandpa, I'm sorry.
I miss you.