But Then You Hear That He Can't

I Realize I Will Never Hear From Dena Again, And I Will Never Call Her. It Gives Me A Chill. It Is A Strange Thing To End A Friendship, Even If You Know It's What You Want. It's Like A Death; All Of A Sudden Your Experience Of A Person Become Finite.

Up Until That Moment, I'd Been At The Earliest Stage Of Love, When You Feel It Will Turn You Into The Better Person You Want To Be. Now, His Gentle Voice And Sage Advice Took Me To A Later Stage: I Felt I Needed To Pretend To Be A Better Person Than I Was So He'd Keep Loving Me. This Was Hard Because It Made Me Hate Him.

During Chemo, You're More Tired Than You've Ever Been. It's Like A Cloud Passing Over The Sun, And Suddenly You're Out. But You Also Find That You're Stronger Than You've Ever Been. You're Clear. Your Mortality Is At Optimal Distance, Not Up So Close That It Obscures Everything Else, But Close Enough To Give You Depth Perception. Previously, It Has Taken You Weeks, Months, Or Years To Discover The Meaning Of An Experience. Now It's Instantaneous.

I Felt I Couldn't Lose Anything Else, But Just Then I Realized I Already Had: I'd Lost The Hope That I Would Ever Be Loved In Just That Way Again.

You Did The Best You Could," And She Seemed To Believe I Had. I Said, "i've Just Been Going Through The Motions," Using The Expression My Father Had After He'd Watched My First Tennis Lesson. "sweetie," She Said, "that's What A Lot Of Life Is.