When I was six years old, my grandfather passed away. To be honest, at that time I felt almost nothing about this tragedy. The loss became noticeable to me much later. Now I am eighteen years old and I have no idea what is happening around me, and most importantly, inside me. I can't share this with my family and friends because it's too personal, it hurts too much. Sometimes it seems to me that the dead make much better listeners than the living. This text is a confession. Unfortunately, I don't believe in God strongly enough to write this letter to him, but I do believe in my grandfather. I know that he loved me, I miss his support, his opinion, his experience. Perhaps if he had lived a little longer, I would have grown up as a completely different person, but the past cannot be changed. "Grandfather, please listen to me in a way that no one else could."