I should've said it.

Okay, so, I need to get this off my chest. It's been eating me up for, like, five years now. Maybe more. I don't even know how to start.

It's about my grandpa, Frank. He wasn't perfect, you know? He was stubborn as hell, and sometimes he'd say things that made you cringe. But he was my grandpa. He taught me how to fish, how to whittle (badly), and he always, always had a Werther's Original in his pocket for me, even when my parents said I'd had too much sugar.

He got sick. Real sick. Lung cancer. He smoked his whole life, even though my grandma nagged him constantly. I guess it finally caught up with him. We all knew it was coming, but knowing and… dealing with it are two different things.

I visited him in the hospital a lot. It was awful. He was so weak and frail, nothing like the big, booming grandpa I remembered. He'd try to tell jokes, but his voice was raspy and quiet. It broke my heart every time.

One day, I was sitting with him, just holding his hand. He looked at me, and he said, "I'm proud of you, kiddo." It was so simple, but it meant the world to me. I wanted to say it back. I really, really did. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I loved him, how much I was going to miss him.

But I didn't. I just mumbled something stupid like, "Thanks, Grandpa." I don't know why. I think I was scared. Scared of the emotion, scared of making him upset, scared of admitting that he was really, truly dying. I just clammed up. Froze. God, I hate myself for that.

He died a few days later. And I never got to tell him.

I’ve replayed that moment a million times in my head. What if I had said it? Would it have made a difference? Would it have made him feel better? Would it have made *me* feel better? I don’t know. And I’ll never know.

Now he's gone, and I'm stuck with this regret. It's a heavy weight, let me tell you. It sits in my chest and aches whenever I think about him, which is pretty often. I see old men fishing, and I think of him. I see a Werther's Original in the store, and I think of him. I just… I miss him. And I miss the chance to tell him how much I loved him.

So, yeah. That’s my confession. I should have said it. I should have just said the goddamn words. Don't be like me. Tell people you love them. Before it's too late.