bitter.

To whom it may concerned.

He used to go the school every morning with dad.He used to go to the same school with dad, he saw him everyday. Had lunch together everyday.His meal partner was always him, his friend to tell stories, to tell jokes.On that day, sitting by dad's bed he didn't even shed a tear as mum told him his bestest friend in the world has gone.Sitting by dad's bed he waited, while mum already lost all means to find a way to make him understand. Heck, he was only ten.Till he reached one point, he finally broke down and cried, only realizing what mum said was true. And that was the first, and the last time we saw tears in his eyes on that day.Even when I came home, when all of us cried, he didn't.When all of us gave our last kiss and cried, he didn't shed a tear. He was almost freezed up, while only him understands what he was going through, for a boy his age.Heck, he was only ten.And months after that, he'd waited for me to come home, and listen to his jokes. He didn't tell them to anyone else. Only me. Some said it was a transition of phase.But I know, for he was lonely, he needed someone to listen to all of his stories.He didn't mention anything, but mum insisted for him to switch schools, knowing how hard it was for him to stay at the same school. And so he moved to a new one, but I hardly think he's recovered.Heck, he was only ten.

You're far from his league.You're far from being in his shoes. Not even close.

So don't judge.