I miss you. There's no better way to say it. I miss your hugs, our sleepovers, and the nights we would stay up and talk until the sun came up the next day. I miss being able to cry on your shoulder. I miss having you be the only one who understands me.

I had nearly nine precious years with you by my side - supporting me, cheering me on, and loving me. During your last month on this Earth, you showed me strength I had never seen before. Crippling cancer was coursing through your veins, and they were trying to drain it out with dreadful poison. Through your pain, you still let me lay in your arms, blissfully asleep, and unaware of the chaos ensuing around you. The days when the medicine made you loopy, you were still able to tell me that you loved me before you left. When your body slowly started to shut down your organs, you still never shed a tear. And in your last days, when your body thought a coma was the only viable option, you still opened your eyes and seemingly reached out for me. You never showed an ounce of pain, you never complained about your condition, and most importantly, you never lost your bright smile.

Over ten years later, I still cherish the lessons you taught me as a child. You taught me to be independent, to apologize when I'm wrong, and to love unconditionally. You exhibited your strength even before your disease; you walked flights of stairs that your knees screamed during, just to say goodnight to me; you came to every school event, every cheer competition, and every weekend movie and sleepover. Even though your body didn't want you to do much, you still pushed through and showed up.

You, along with my Mom, raised me. You became the father I never had, and you made sure I never needed him there. Even though you knew the truth about my father, you never let that deter you; you let me form my own opinion of him. You made sure I had all the people a child could ever need, all wrapped up in one person.

I miss you more than words can say, but I would never want you to come back to a world where you were in pain. I can still feel your presence around me, and though it is no replacement for your warm hugs, it's the best you can do. In a few decades when I can see you again, we'll get to have our long conversation about all that we've missed out on.