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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Loneliness doesn’t care who you are,” she says, her voice calm.
Roxie was wrong. I’m not off-script, I’m currently writing it. Finally, I’m in control.
Mornings aren’t my favorite, but I’ve learned to appreciate them. There’s something beautiful about experiencing the stillness before the flowers bloom and birds start chirping. It’s proof of new beginnings.
It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t feel like home. It shouldn’t feel like I want to do this again and again and again. But it does.
Out of everything that has come with my diagnosis, understanding that my time is running out is the most difficult one to comprehend. Time. It doesn’t matter how many numbers are in anyone’s bank account, because it’s the only thing money can’t buy us more of.
Grief changes a person;
“I’m afraid of growing attached then having to navigate a world without knowing you.”
“Lying. I can forgive the truth and work through it with someone I love more than a lie. And you?”
“Falling in love with me wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to you, would it?” “No. Losing you would,”
“I can’t imagine a life without you.”
The older I become, the more I notice how fast time passes.
