My Grandad died just over a month ago. I still cant believe he's gone, because as soon as the funeral was over I came back to uni and escaped. I think its finally hitting home that i'm never going to see his face, or hug him ever again. I miss him soo much. Why does it take something dreadful to make us think about what matters the most to us? How am i supposed to help my grandma? Now i dont want to go home, just so that i dont have to deal with it all. And that is so selfish im ashamed.

So maybe things will get better, Ive had my first birthday without him there. And soon it will be Christmas, and it doesnt feel like it should be, it feels like all of us are acting out parts in a play and i just want to stop. But if i stop i have to admit that hes gone, and i cant do that either, so i smile and i laugh, and most of the time everythings normal, and then i forget, and have to remember all over again, and then i feel guilty for not thinking about him. Its not fair.

I spoke at the funeral. I felt it was the one thing i could do that no one else could, no one else wanted to. But i was the only one there who didnt cry. And then i started feeling guilty, thinking that if he meaned all the things that i said he did why wasnt it showing?I trembled so much i could hardly stand, i had to hold on to the pews and the lecturn. But i cant decide why. Maybe it was just nerves.

Its my cousins 21st birthday at the end of November and i have to go home then. Grandma really wants me home as soon as possible, and i have to go and see her, and talk to everyone. I reckon its going to be the hardest thing i have ever had to do. I feel so useless, but i know that grandad would want me there, so im going home. Because I love him.