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A binding thread.
This broke my heart. I knew it was a touching story about Archie Comics. I didn't know how it would hit me.
I can't exactly explain why it hurt me so much. There are parts where I'm thankful for the differences - Jaime's doing well, so far as we can tell right now, and he may be a bit more fatigued than usual, but he's still strong - and parts where I'm jealous of them. The ending of the piece mentions being young and scared and having all the time in the world. I've got a fair amount of the youth, and I certainly get scared, but that veil of invincibility, the idea that you have forever to do everything and for now, nothing can touch you, got ripped away. I'm very aware of the fact that life is fragile. I'm acutely, painfully awake to the reality of time and the unpredictability of illness. And I wish I wasn't. I wish I wasn't in this situation. I am, and I'll do what has to be done, but there's nothing I wish more than that Jaime and I could've signed that apartment contract and moved to Orlando and gone back to school this very month.
But y'know, all the wishing in the world won't change this. I'm 23 years old, and I'm learning. I'm not taking things for granted. I'm not letting myself get too down over stupid things - the website stuff I mentioned earlier slowed me down for half an hour or so, but it didn't really reach me like it would've a year ago. I would've honestly, earnestly grieved over the circumstance. Now? I'm accepting it as an annoyance, as a sad happening, but not as a calamity. It's not a tragedy.
And when I have happy moment, they're so much happier. When Jaime and I play Brawl together, when we wander through Target with frappuccinos, when he etches boards and I crochet and we talk about politics or science or what we'd look like with anime hair, I love it. It's the best feeling in the world. I can appreciate these bites of normalcy precisely because I've had my life uprooted and the security snatched away as if it never existed.
Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't wish this on anyone, not my part, not Jaime's, not at all. But if he has to be the one in a million, I'm glad I can be by his side, and I'm glad I can take some little bit of good out of this experience.
I can't exactly explain why it hurt me so much. There are parts where I'm thankful for the differences - Jaime's doing well, so far as we can tell right now, and he may be a bit more fatigued than usual, but he's still strong - and parts where I'm jealous of them. The ending of the piece mentions being young and scared and having all the time in the world. I've got a fair amount of the youth, and I certainly get scared, but that veil of invincibility, the idea that you have forever to do everything and for now, nothing can touch you, got ripped away. I'm very aware of the fact that life is fragile. I'm acutely, painfully awake to the reality of time and the unpredictability of illness. And I wish I wasn't. I wish I wasn't in this situation. I am, and I'll do what has to be done, but there's nothing I wish more than that Jaime and I could've signed that apartment contract and moved to Orlando and gone back to school this very month.
But y'know, all the wishing in the world won't change this. I'm 23 years old, and I'm learning. I'm not taking things for granted. I'm not letting myself get too down over stupid things - the website stuff I mentioned earlier slowed me down for half an hour or so, but it didn't really reach me like it would've a year ago. I would've honestly, earnestly grieved over the circumstance. Now? I'm accepting it as an annoyance, as a sad happening, but not as a calamity. It's not a tragedy.
And when I have happy moment, they're so much happier. When Jaime and I play Brawl together, when we wander through Target with frappuccinos, when he etches boards and I crochet and we talk about politics or science or what we'd look like with anime hair, I love it. It's the best feeling in the world. I can appreciate these bites of normalcy precisely because I've had my life uprooted and the security snatched away as if it never existed.
Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't wish this on anyone, not my part, not Jaime's, not at all. But if he has to be the one in a million, I'm glad I can be by his side, and I'm glad I can take some little bit of good out of this experience.