This book is based on a true story, but it is also a fiction.
In this novella, you’ll read truths, modified truths and lies.
I’m not gonna tell you which is truth and which is a lie, but I’m gonna tell you that writing this short story wasn’t easy for me.
I don’t want you to enjoy reading this…
I want you to feel…
And ask yourself what would you do…if you had One Night Only?
I was wrong.
I was wrong my whole life.
They said “There is love,” and I didn’t believe them.
“Love hurts,” they offered, but I didn’t think that was true.
“Love is a weakness,” they insisted and I laughed at them.
Love was just a popular belief and a childish notion to me. I had more important things to deal with than “being in love”.
I had never understood why people bothered with all the drama of love if the only thing it did was hurt people or become their weaknesses.
Didn’t they have real life struggles instead of playing the love game?
Girls like me wished to have their life –a normal life. These girls, me included, went to bed every night in hopes of waking up as a normal young adult. But as we were disappointed every morning, these girls were seeking trouble for the sake of love…this was ridiculous.
These were the thoughts that molded my life for twenty years. I believed them and laughed at every “love” word I heard.
I was wrong, ridiculously so.
But the most ironic thing was…the moment I noticed my mistake, it was already too late. Because of my stubbornness I missed the chance of finding happiness in my life.
I was too late for love…
And now all I had was one night only…
Another PET scan was done.
It was so hard to stand, let alone walk, because of the pain all over my body. My muscles were screaming in agony, but I had to live with it; I had to go to school.
I had to work hard for my life, even though I had no idea how much longer I had.
I had to build my future, even though I wasn’t sure if I had one.
I was still standing tall on my two feet. I was dealing with whatever life threw at me and my determination was enough to carry on.
Each person in this life was living their lives pursuing their happiness, but they were mostly settling to just be content.
Being content wasn’t the same thing as being happy, but it was enough to continue.
As an addition to all this fucked-upness in life, I had a disease, a cancer. But I got used to this fact. Living with bones that felt like they would break any second turned into a routine after a while. Being afraid of your every step because of the pain was old news. The routine MRI didn’t bother me any longer. And being friends with the whole hospital crew wasn’t important anymore.