The misdiagnosis.

'Do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?'
...
'The good news is that I'm not dying today,' she said.

The 'burn-out' and stress-related stomach ulcer was a misdiagnosis. She has stage 3/4 brain cancer. It is inoperable; the cancer is living and growing in the connective tissue that holds her mind, the rings and folds of tissue that contain the essence of her, together. She is being biopsied on Monday but it is just seeking confirmation of what they already know; she is dying... six months to two years. That is how long she has to live. She's my best friend. She's my best friend. I love her. And she is dying. Dying soon. Dying now. Time has already begin to run out. 'She was my best friend.'



in that sleep of death
what dreams may come

Since this is what this blog is about I feel compelled to add that my binging and purging is out of control. Out. Of. Control. Perhaps so I can hold up my body, like an offering, as if to say: "Look. Do you see? I could not do anything for you, I could not unmake this thing, or undo, or plaster over, paint it up, throw it out, let it go, ignore it until it went away. So I did something, anything, unmade myself, tore up the inside, wittled down the outside, reassambled me. I made myself into something better so that you could go with pride saying 'She was my friend.'" I know she would think I'm silly. But I would say; 'I love you... and I had to do something.'

I don't know. I do not know what to do. Nothing. Something. Either way it cannot change the future. It has already been set in motion. The deadline has been brought forward.

They say 'I will try to fix you.'
Why.
Why try?
It doesn't matter.
Nothing I could attempt;
any kind of living
or
any kind of dying.
None of it will make the slightest bit of difference.
It's over.
It's over - now - though we haven't even begun.
I'm sorry.
I love you
and
I'm so so sorry.
For you.
For me.
For family.
For friends.
For everyone who mourns the unfairness of life
knowing there is no reason
and no justice
and no God
and that we are alone
and powerless
and defeatable
indefensible
and
dispensable.
I love you.