Dear Grandpa,

I'm your grand daughter. I'm 16 right now, but I turn 17 really soon. I am medium height, I have dirty blond hair, eyes that change color, & I'm just an all around medium person. Today is May 20th, 2011. The weather outside is rainy & sad, which means my mood is rainy & sad. I have S.A.D.S. or seasonal depression. Right now, I'm suicidal. I told your son, my dad, but he really didn't seem to care all that much. All he cares about is respect & pride. I know you love him & probably don't like hearing me say this about your son & I'm sorry. I've heard you probably weren't the best dad ever, but who ever really is? I miss you. Every time I think about you a lump comes to my throat. You died 5 months before I was born. Is it weird that I blame myself? I always end up feeling horrible that I was born at that time. People don't understand me, & I have a feeling you would've. I have lots of friends but ... they don't get me. They don't understand that when I like someone, I like them a lot & if they encourage me, I'll just like that person even more. They don't get that I need my space. They don't get that I always feel like half the world is turning & I feel like I'm going to fall over or faint. They don't get I live in a homicidal roller coaster family, or that I'm happiest in my head. They just don't get it. But from the great stories I've heard about you, I just can tell that if you were still alive, you'd get it. I know that you must have had your flaws, I have many. I don't care. I need someone to believe in. Some human that isn't messy or complicated, someone who would just sit & listen to me talk while patting my hand or stroking my hair, someone who would have made me go insane if they touched me. You may not be a hero, but you created a great (but flawed) family. I miss you. I'll write again soon.

Love,

Me.