As I looked upon my grandfather's dying body, it hit me.
I realized just how alike he and I really are.
I was in his position a year ago.

I wasn't in a hospital.
I wasn't dying from **** and cancer.

I was in a rehabilitation facility.
I was dying from the lack of ****** in my system.

I spent all my time either lying in my own blood and bile in the bathroom
or screaming the names of people who would never see me because they were ashamed of how I turned out.

Just like he was.

Only grandpa had someone there with him as he was passing.
He had me and his friend.

I'm glad I'm not a ******* like the rest of his family.
I'm glad I was there. I hope he didn't feel alone.

Because no one deserves that.