Every story has it's beginning. That part is obvious. It's the contents which is uncertain. I met Liam on my nintenieth year on earth and he met me on his twentieth. I loved him immediately but he took some convincing. Playing hard to get in a way. But not if that makes sense. Probably not but I don't care.
Anyway, I had an ongoing treatment for the cancer in my bladder which seemed to appear on my sixteenth year. Like great now you can have sex but you're never going to expirence it. Fun. I was jabbed, prodded and cut open over the space of a year, after which it had vanished. I awaited it's arrival ever since. And sure enough it came back. But spread. Taking my lungs also. It taunted me everyday until eventually I lost it. Collapsed aparently. But I don't remember a thing. I was too busy keeling over in pain. Believe it or not cancer in painful. Who knew? Obviously you didn't as you haven't experienced it. And what a lucky sod you are. You complain because daddy brought you and iPad instead of a iPhone, I complain because I can't breathe without being in pain. Fair enough, right?
Then came the hardships of having to tell him it made a reappearance. Liam, not the cancer. I assumed the cancer is a male because it seems to be intruding my body. As most boys do now a days. I don't quite remember how I phrased it as my memory is not the best but it went something along the lines of cancer hiring out an apartment in my lungs. But then again, I was on the strongest meds they could give me.
Since then, the boy has never left my side. Not even to pee. He has a bladder of steal, that boy. Anyway, he's been the best you can be for a boy who's girlfriend's lungs lit up like a Christmas tree in a PET scan. I quite liked the idea of being a Christmas tree though. Sparkling and making children smile. But according to him, I did that anyway.
"Most importantly, you make me smile,"
he'd say to me. "Even when I look like a unused woopie cushion?" "Especially when you look like a unused woopie cushion," and he'd tap my nose in a way a father would tap his child's nose. As I said, this story is very cliche but ,again, I don't care. He means the world to me. And until I die, I will mean the world to him.
But what I think about most often is how he will be after I'm gone. Will he be like the typical movie boyfriend who weeps at the mention of my name or our 'couple song'. Or will he be a forgetter. Who just forgets I ever existed and moves on to a different girl. Thinking about that hurts. And the worst part of that is, is that I will never know because I will not live long enough to see.
'The thing about pain, is that it demands to be felt,'
Probably the best quote from the best book I have ever read. I was obsessed for like 3 weeks as I read it vigorously. Scanning and remembering every word, like an obsessive person does. Liam's exact words were "I've never seen anything cuter than obsessive you,". I beg to differ. He's seen Niall Horan so of course he's seen cuter. But that is, of course, besides the point. I felt like I knew the characters personally as I had experienced what they had. Especially Hazel. We could've been best friends, her and I. But unfortunately she did not exist and, soon enough, neither would I. Would Liam grieve like Hazel? Or would he grieve at all? As I said, I will never know. And I feel intrusive asking. But I love him. No matter if he loves me too or not. Always have, always will.
