Flailing in a sea of coarse realities, hope and dread are neck and neck, the day of telling is soon. The end, the beginning, the day I accept that life is the bane of my existence. Must I know, can't I just go on denying an awful truth? Is it worse if you know? Would that man have still died so soon if he hadn't known about the cancer? I always ask it. He was happy and at peace until he found out the awful truth, then everything fell apart. Life separates into columns and clumps of sense and reason versus emotion and optimism. You search for the information that builds the guillotine for your hope, you search to help and end up slaying optimism. The reality pushed upon you by the professionals, it's important to know, I suppose so that you can suffer appropriately. Loved and lost may not be as good as they say but I guess only time will tell.
*No, as far as I know noone has cancer or is even thought to possibly have cancer.
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