Unlike  most of what I write, this isn't about the heartbreak I've felt from the harsh loss of a boy who didn't deserve to break me in the first place. This is a different kind of heartbreak, the kind that stems from the cruel loss of a man who couldn't bear to breathe another breath.This man  is my grandfather, or what he preferred to be called, my Papaw. He was kind man, with glasses, and heart of gold. There wasn't a  time he didn't tell me he loved me or missed me when he got the chance. Whenever we talked his first words were always, "  Hi Hunny!" with such  excitement and love, I couldn't help but let a smile spread across my face. A smile that I took for granted, just like all those birthday cards with twenty dollars bills stuffed inside and a note that said "Papaw and Grandma Marks love you." While this isn't the first time I've dealt with the loss of a loved one,it's the first time I've dealt with a loss of this kind, suicide. The word itself now rips a hole through my heart every time I hear it. Most people don't understand the difference in the loss it creates. These are the people who haven't experience a loss so extreme as this. While they may have been upset and often questioned God for his actions and choice of taking their loved one, they've always been able to cope with the idea that God took them because it was their time, that they're in a better place, free of any pain or struggles they faced on this earth.... I doubt they lay in bed every night questioning what kind of terrible person they had to have been to not see the hurt and pain their loved-one felt every day for the past ten years, to feel worthless and so helpless that they only option they felt they had left was to put a bullet through their skull to numb the pain. They don't have that thought replay itself in their minds every single day. They have someone to blame when they're mad if the choose. They can take the easy way out and blame God. But how do you blame God, when they took their own life? And how do you blame them when they felt they had no other choice? You can't. So you start to blame yourself for every missed opportunity to say I love you, or I miss you. You scold yourself for being so blind and you're angry all the time, at least I am. .... I don't mean to sound bitter, but I am. So I guess that's it.