Five Feet Apart

by Rachael Lippincott

It’s not every day you see a happy couple coming into a hospital. Watching them holding hands and exchanging longing glances, I wonder what it would be like to have somebody look at me like that. People are always looking at my cannula, my scars, my G-tube, not at me. It doesn’t make guys want to line up by my locker.

He’s so cute, my lung function feels like it dropped another 10 percent.

Well, that’s always a promising sign. Nothing like actual repulsion to start off on the right foot.

“It’s just life. It’ll be over before we know it.”

If I’m going to die, I’d like to actually live first.

I’m closing in on the remaining 40 percent being pudding.

I’ve never been in love before.