I knew that it wouldn't be parting with me anytime soon.
By 'it', I meant the monstrous tumor pressing against my lungs. My inoperable tumor that was causing my life to go spiraling down the drain. I tend to notice how often people compare our mere lives to an hourglass, as our precious time will always be escaping. I think of my tumor as a crack in my 'hourglass'. A crack that was causing my life to be slipping through rapidly.
I was aware that I would be parting with my mere existence soon.
But was is it really necessary to be ironically smoking in a group outside my window?
It was quite clear that throughout my life, I had always been isolated from the crowd. As a child, everyone thought of me as the sick kid in class who'd never show up. Growing up, I suppose that most people could understand what cancer was, however I'd always been singled out, as nobody knew how to approach me.
It bothers me that they'd always treated me as an alien, although I am human just like them as well, only difference is, I'm hooked up to an IV for most of my time.
However, all they managed to do to me was try to intimidate me by smoking, which was ironic, as they happen to be increasing the chance of harboring my fatal disease as well.
Most parents of a chronically ill child with a fatal disease would be spending every last second with them, however my own folks took a different route.
They treated me as though I had already passed, only acknowledging my existence when my checkups were a priority.
I suppose that the fact that I had practically no chance of survival had already stuck them, therefore they decided to spend time with my younger sister, knowing that they still had a chance with her.
My life seems quite depressing if you were to look at it shallowly.
But in all honesty, I've never minded being alone. At least I thought I didn't.
