I once loved you, and I guess I still do.

Even now, I still do.

You took care of me when I was so little, so new to this world. You took care of me when I was so innocent and harmless, when I could hardly walk.

You taught me my first words, helped me walk, sang for me, played with me.

You taught me my first words and taught me to stay quiet.

Quiet when you ruined my lovely fairytale world.

Quiet when you hurt me.

Quiet when you took my innocence, when I wasn’t even old enough to know what that meant.

Quiet when my mom asked how I was.

Quiet in church.

Quiet at family gatherings.

Quiet. Always quiet.

Don’t.ever.say.a.word.about.this.

But I grew up, got older, turned braver and smarter and wiser.

And with the years, my voice came back.

I whispered, then spoke, then shouted -rebelled against everyone.

Now I’m quiet unless I want to speak.

My voice is mine, it no longer belongs to you.

Dear grandpa, I still love you

Too bad you never loved me too.