So I'd say losing my Dad was my downfall. Everyone says about dead people how special they were and it'll sound a cliche, but my Dad was the kindest, most gentle and sweet man. As he grew up with only females he grew a soft side. He brought my Aunty up when my Grandma was too selfish to look after them. To me, he was always my hero. When he left my Mum, I didn't really understand, I was 5. Soon after, everything went wrong, Mum went through a midlife crisis and soon my visits to my Dad were the only bits of sanity and stability I had. He had such a way with words, he was so gentle and understanding and would never get angry at me. He'd explain things to me in a way I'd understand what I'd done wrong. He married my Step mum and things were even better. She had never had children so I was the closest she had. She taught me all the things I needed to know, she got rid of the headlice and taught me about personal hygiene, stuff that my real mum hadn't done. I always looked forward to my weekends at their house, Dad would pick me up from school, and he'd run to me and give me the biggest best hug in the world. Then we'd go swimming, which was all I looked forward to, I love water, I think that's why. It sounds sad but when I'm in the water I feel closer to him. My Stepmum would cook me a proper meal (mum never did) and I'd sit and tell them about my week (much to their disgust, bullying at school and neglect at home, but I just saw my life as normal). They fought for me, my Dad was my biggest fan, he thought I could do anything and he always told me how proud he was of me, even when I hadn't done anything. He was my best friend. Just after my Dad met my Stepmum, he was diagnosed with brain cancer, they didn't give him long to live but luckily he surpassed all expectations and made it through the first load of radiotherapy and chemo and went on for another 5 or 6 years. I didn't really understand at the time and he was pretty normal, despite getting fatter. But he loved his food anyway so 5 or 6 years later, we were told the brain tumour had come back, everything was the same as before, he didn't really change and he fought it. 3 years later, same again, fought it. On my 16th birthday, Dad was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer and I noticed the difference, he developed weakness in his left side and began to struggle with simple tasks. Afyer about a month, we had the OT in to adapt their house as Dad was losing all his mobility, we had to hoist him and eventually he was bed bound, he then lost the ability to speak, eat and drink. 3 months later after terminal diagnosis he passed away with us all by his side. It was the most painful experience of my life, I lost my Dad, my best friend, my rock and my hero. 4 years, I still struggle everyday, I can't explain the pain and heartbreak I feel every single day. That was when I lost my will to live. As much as I know that's not what he'd want, he was my everything. I miss him so much.