Sorry Doesn't Solve Anything

< Intro >

Disease. It’s such an ugly word. It’s just as ugly as when someone says, “You have a lung disease, I’m sorry.” And it’s no prettier than for months later when they say, “You’re disease is getting worse. I’m sorry.” Sorry doesn’t solve anything you know. A lung transplant, medicine… a miracle would. But sorry does nothing. At first, when I was in junior year in high school, I never imagined I’d be hearing those words. I mean, I was normal. I wasn’t particularly athletic… I was pretty smart. I did have one thing going for me I guess; my appearance. My friends say I’m gorgeous… but I don’t believe them. I’m just… me. However, never in a million years would I have expected to end up sitting in a hospital bed, watching crappy TV, waiting for the words, “We found a match and can make the surgery.”

No, I didn’t hear that for a while. I was just sitting mindlessly, friendless suddenly, waiting for those words to ring in my ears. 

But that all changed the moment I met a boy named James Moore.

But before I start there, I think that you would better understand, dear reader, what happened if I started at the beginning. Before my life changed.

The first day of junior year.