I should have been happy for it. As I was walking around like a grenade, ready to explode any second, it would be selfish to want to bring another person into this mess. But I was human and for the first time in my life I wanted to have a boyfriend, to be loved by someone other than my family.
I tried to forget him, even though I saw him every day.
I tried to ignore the pain in my heart as well as the pain in my whole body, mostly on my knee.
I added this shit into my already fucked-up life and I was angry at myself.
And like this wasn’t enough…I was getting worse. The pain in my knee was getting stronger each day and I had no idea how much more I could stand.
One night, I couldn’t stand it any longer.
My hands turned into fists again as I tried to not scream. My nails left red strains on my palms, but nothing distracted me from the pain this time.
I pulled my legs to myself as much as I could and tried to get smaller on my bed, like as if I got smaller the pain would become bearable. But it only got worse and I couldn’t stand it any longer, my consciousness was getting blurry. With the last effort I screamed, “Mom!”
My parents came into my room in full panic, but I didn’t have any strength to calm them. Mom was already crying and my dad was trying to put me into my wheelchair, but he was struggling to do it with his shaking hands.
I must have lost consciousness because when I opened my eyes I was already at the hospital. The pain was tolerable now, courtesy to the painkiller that was still filling my body through the needle in the back of my hand.
The moment I noticed I was alone in the room, the door opened and my parents came in. My mom looked defeated, her eyes were swollen and red. I hurt for her, but there was nothing I could do.
“April? Do you need anything?” my dad asked with a quiet but raspy voice.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew my situation was bad, beyond curable. I passed the border of caring anymore. Probably, it was kind of a self defense mechanism, shutting off and not caring about anything…not even death.
“Where is my phone, dad?” I asked, ignoring his unsure look.
He handed it to me, “I brought it while you were sleeping.”
“Thank you,” I murmured and opened facebook to find the one person I wanted to connect with: Ashton Kennedy…the dream guy.
My fingers hesitated over his profile picture, but I was dying…what else could I lose? My pride? I was sure pride wouldn’t mean anything when I was dead.
I took a deep breath and typed…
Hello, Ashton.
I’m gonna make the strangest offer of your life. It will be silly, maybe even meaningless, but I have to do this…before it is too late.
I’m not your type of girl. I don’t have a model-like body, I’m not fun, and I’m the living example of ordinary. I know we haven’t talked so much and this fact makes my offer even more absurd, but I have to tell you the truth…I love you, Ashton. My fucked-up heart in this sick and ridiculous body chose you to love.
Simply… I love you and I’m dying.
Don’t think I’m joking… I really am dying. My body became the dinner table of the fucking cancer that is eating me alive, literally. I know I have so little time left, I just don’t know how little it is. My pain became unbearable and I’m feeling it is not much. Death is so close to me.
Now, in a hospital room, I’m writing this message to you, throwing my pride out of the window, just to ask something from you…
Don’t let me spend this night alone.
I want a night from you…one night only.
I want to feel like a normal girl… for one night only…
You don’t have to do this, I know. But I’m still making the offer:
One night only…
After hitting the send button, my eyes were glued to the screen. I saw the message turn into “seen”, but there wasn’t any return message or any attempt of writing one.