As soon as I got there though I immediately wished I hadn’t. A massive wave of fear swept over me as I pushed open those heavy iron gates. I wanted to run away as fast as I could and never look back but there was something inside me telling me to act like the adult I was supposed to be. So on I went, into the old, crumbling stone church and up to the vicar who was praying and looked rather annoyed to be interrupted. I managed to mutter something about needing to find someone. He asked if I was referring to god as that 'someone' but I explained that no, I was looking for a real person and this was the place I'd been told I would find him. After I explained everything he was very helpful and said he would look Patrick up on his church records. When he'd been looking on the computer for a while he came back and told me that I should probably go outside and get some fresh air while he continued to look. I walked out side and decide that I should have a look at all the graves. It always shocked me how many people died and today was no exception. I walked along the rows and rows of dead people. Everyone from babies to 100 and something year olds. None of them particularly got my attention until I walked almost into the man I was looking for. Without even looking down I knew it was him. I felt a shiver run up my spine and I saw a cloud go over the sun. In Loving memory of Patrick Spiller, A great doctor, son, friend and partner. A great man who gave his life for others He will be greatly missed. I couldn’t cry even though I wanted to. I wanted to lie on the ground and scream and shout. To tell the whole world how unfair it was. I wanted to grieve and cry and mourn for him and if I couldn’t do that then I wanted the ground to swallow me up, to hide me away from everyone. I knelt down next to the grave and whispered how sorry I was that I want there. I told him that I loved him. Something that I couldn’t even admit to myself a few hours ago but that I was now admitting to Patrick, god, a priest and a whole load of dead people. Even as I said the words I felt the tears pouring down my cheeks. The tears that I couldn’t cry a minute ago were now pouring out like there was no tomorrow. I felt like there was no tomorrow. As I sat there on the ground I looked at his gravestone and saw when it was dated. 2002. I couldn't believe it. He'd been dead all those years and no one had even thought to tell me. I cried and I shouted: swearing and cursing everyone and no one. I said all the things I should have said when he was alive and cried all the tears I should have done when he died. My words fell on deaf ears and my tears on blind eyes. I was 18 years too late