So this is my thing for when I have feelings that no one in the world really cares about hearing or reading about. But certain things need to be vented out. This will mainly be my tragedy about love and loss; just parts of life that you don't really spew out to everyone you know, or even the closer people to you. So tonight my thing is about the second l; loss. I don't think I really deserve to cry as much as I do over him. I mean, he was my poppop, but we never really bonded. I actually remember not wanting to talk to him when he tried to talk to me because I had "better things to do." How stupid was I? I mean, I cant give up things for my own family. There he was, reaching out, trying to be a bigger part in my life and I would constantly not let him in. I have a problem with that in my life. My mom thinks I have an issue with men. I don't make strong relationships with them. She thinks I cant trust them. Everything with my dad at such a young age apparently has affected me. I don't talk to my uncles or my cousins; and I cant even be close with my dad. The only guy I was ever super close to was Zach. I told him EVERYTHING about my life and everyday. We talked for hours on the phone EVERYDAY. And look what he did to me. Now I cant have a steady relationship; and I don't even mean romantically with guys. Even like actual friendships that go beyond just constantly joking. Sometimes I don't think there will ever be a way to fix that. To fix me. I just want to go back to every time my pops tried to talk to me and just sit there, for even just 5 minutes, and talk to him. When he passed I learned more about him than I did for the almost 16 years that I knew him. I cant believe I was that bad of a grandchild that I didn't even try to learn anything about him. True, he isn't my biological grandfather, but he was the grandfather I grew up with. I didn't meet my biological one until I was about 11. I just don't think that I have a right to be as upset as I am. Like today, we went to the nursing home after school to deliver holiday cards, and I saw a man that reminded me so much of my poppop and a few rooms down another man with a huge Redskins blanket. That was it for me. I couldn't stay in the home. I felt stupid. I mean, what am I upset for? The loss of a person who happened to be my grandfather? And I am in no way, shape, or form blaming him for anything. It is all my fault that I didn't make an actual strong relationship with him. Even the one thing I knew he was passionate about I had to hate because my whole family loved it, and that was the Redskins. I mean, I only hated them because my family loved them, and I wanted nothing to do with my family. I feel like such a waste of air and space when I say that. But still, every night before I go to bed I sit there with that regret hanging above my head. And it is almost always the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. And now, I have to live with this guilt the rest of my life. And it was all my fault. I didn't respond. He tried and I rejected. I must be the worst grandchild alive.