they would grow to love their new mother easily enough. I wanted not to fight, but to flee to a place where I could die. I told Josh I didn’t want to live like this, with this diseased body that had failed me one time too many, with the specter of death looming ever closer; that this was no longer a life worth living, that whatever good that would come from now on, whatever laughter, whatever joy would be poisoned by the cancer, and I didn’t want a life poisoned by cancer. I wanted to start over. I wanted to find escape and rebirth in death. And then I grew angry at the image of this other
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