Letting Go

Bucket List

"Oh my chocolate! That was so much fun!" I scream as I jump on my bed face first. Ryan walks in my room chuckling.

Ryan and I just came from finishing one of the many things on my bucket list. It was number seventeen "talk myself out of jail." We snuck into the old abandoned house, which is private property. I don't get how something abandoned can be private property. Anyway, someone, well Ryan pretending to be an old lady, called the cops. When the cops came Ryan and I made up some hilarious excuse as to why we were sneaking in the house. To make a long story short we barely managed to get away.

"Fun? You damn near pissed your-" he was cut off my mint green pillow coming in contact with his face.

"Hey, pillows are not made for throwing!"

"But... it's a "throw" pillow," I laugh as Ryan rolls his eye.

"So," changing the subject Ryan says, "I guess we can cross off number seventeen."

"Yeah, now we have thousands more to go," I reply trying to sound happy. I can't let anyone know how I really feel. It's bad enough that I have cancer; I don't want pity on top of that. Plus, if my family and Ryan knew how I felt they'll feel the same way. I want to keep them happy at all times.

"Oh Izzy, you have years upon years left to finish the list," his gaze softened, "and I'll help you with each and every one."

For some reason I didn't believe him. I usually believe everything that Ryan tells me. Like when we were nine and he told me that my cat was really a dog in disguise. I spent all month trying to get poor Mr. Whiskers to fetch and play dead. But, this time I just couldn't force myself to believe my best friend. I knew that I barely had a year left, and I could feel it. That's why I want to finish this bucket list as soon as possible. But I wouldn't dare tell Ryan this, it would only upset him, and he needs to be happy. 

The rest of day was full of movies, video games, and fake laughter on my part. Ryan leaves around ten for his daily family dinner. I was left with heated up leftovers from two days ago. My parents are rarely home anymore and when they are, they could barely look at me. I understand that they've both started working overtime to pay for my medical bills, but I just want them home with me. I don't understand how they can't see that no matter how much money we spend on new treatments and chemotherapy, I'm still going to die. I know that I'm not strong enough to fight this cancer. I've been trying for the past five years, and I'm just ready to give up and be free. With thoughts of being cancer free in mind I drift off to sleep cuddling  my mint green pillow.