As Air Force Two took off, I felt compelled to open up my diary and write: March 29—Leaving MD Anderson with hope. Beau is an amazing man. As is Hunter. He is staying with [Beau] until the next procedure. I’ll be coming back. I paused. What else was there to say? I was afraid if I really opened up, I would give into a lurking despair, and I could not allow that to happen. I could not allow Beau or anyone else to see that, ever. I set aside the diary until the flight was nearly over, then picked it up again to add one line. Just landed. 6:07. I feel so goddam lonely.
