I'm two years now, into remission from my cancer. I hope this post doesn't jinx anything. This anniversary gets me thinking sometimes about what's happened since. A lot of MI diagnoses and a few hospitalizations for it. I've gotten engaged since and have endured the loss of three friends. I also believe I'm soon losing another, but I won't go into that. There are times when I'm very pissed off that I survived. Upset that I've lived "past my opportunity". Other times, like today, I'm happy I lived this long. While I've lost friends, I've also been there for people who needed me. Been there for my fiance and have been able to make him laugh when he's sad, and ease his mind when he's stressed. Been there for my mom, who I don't believe would survive the loss of one of her children. I participated in a short-term reach out program for high school students and was able to help a couple of them. I was here to hold my brother and help him through the loss of his fiance; as much as I wish it hadn't happened. I was able to talk my friend out of potentially committing suicide. I've done some things that I'm proud of and things I'm not so proud of since. Whether in misery or in euphoria or in between; I've lived. In the end, I think my cancer saved me. When I'm barely hanging on while the demons in my mind tear me apart, I remember how I felt when I was dying and had no real choice in the matter. I remember that my fear wasn't dying, still isn't. It was and still is, what happens to those I love when I do. They're not ready for me to leave, not yet. I don't know if they'll ever be, but I'm not going to rush the process, thinking I know best.

Didn't know where to write this, so I put it here. Don't know why I had to write this, but it's just on my mind so I thought I'd let it out somewhere.