I love my T. It's the fierce and untainted love of a child for its parent. I've never experienced this sort of pure, devoted love before, and it is magical.

I wanted to tell him for a long time but never found the courage until I knew he was dying. I knew I had to tell him before he died or I'd regret it forever. Even then, I texted it instead of saying it in person. It took several more months before I was able to tell him in person. Once I started though I couldn't stop. The last time I talked to him, I said it over and over again. Such a bittersweet experience.

ETA: He told me he loved me in the end, which I'm sure he never would have done had he not been dying. Even then he was careful about it, saying only that he loved me the way my father should have loved me.