Just one thing to say today, something that came to me last night. I had a mental breakdown, I'm not ashamed to admit it. Yelled for a bit and then just cried for about an hour. Temperature went right up so Dad was holding cold cloths against my face and making me have a cold shower, that sort of thing.
But I was at dancing. Only time I haven't enjoyed it, ever. Ben and I were arguing -- "Your face" and "Your mum". Stupid stuff like that, until we ran out of insults and he said "Your grandad's dead!"
I just stopped. Then I said, quietly, "I know." And again inside my mind like a whisper. "I know."
I didn't make it home that night without getting off my bike and walking. Tears were spilling and rendering me blind; I was a danger, I couldn't be on the road. I was whispering to myself, Where's your champion now, Grandad? The champion that never won a prize. The champion that couldn't dance.
That's me. The champion that never won a prize.