When did it start? The moment you stopped smiling at me.

You used to smile so brightly while eating the food I made, and you used to hug me tightly, genuinely happy no matter how small the gift I gave you was... When did you start refusing to even touch food, and throwing the gifts I gave you into the trash without hesitation?

It was probably after you started getting sick.

The terminal illness gnawed away not just at your body, but at your soul bit by bit. You were harsh to me on purpose and got irritable over the smallest things. As if begging me to please leave you. As if pleading for me to hate you.

But even though I know everything, I can't hate you, and I can't leave you. I probably never will be able to.

It's okay if you push me away, and it's okay if you don't smile like you used to. It doesn't matter if you say harsh words and act cold to me. You don't even have to tell me you love me.

Because you still love me, and I will love you forever.