What's Left of Me

You're scared, but just because you can't see your future, doesn't mean I can't. I see it clearly because I can see mine.

To the normal person, waking up on Mondays can suck. Let's face it: who enjoys having to wake up early on a Monday to start your week over again? For me, it is something I've missed. I swear, when I beat this cancer I will never complain about it again. Why? Because it means I'm healthy. It means that it is a day other than Saturday. It means I have something to do, or somewhere else to be, other than at home, sick and feeling helpless.

I don't believe in holding regrets or taking things for granted. What is handed to me is not always welcome, but I've learned to deal with it one day at a time. I've learned that in order to build strength, there has to be a struggle. Living is my struggle.

If a guy doesn’t like the way you eat, then he was never that into you.

once told me that it’s not about whether there is life after you die, but whether you’re alive before you die.

Men this good-looking are only supposed to exist in books or movies. Not real life. Even

I was meant to meet Parker. He brings out the best in me. He brings out the life in me.

If everything that represents who I am is gone, then what’s left of me?” “Everything,

I’m not scared of death, Dad,” I told him. “I’m scared of not living. I don’t want to die with any regrets that I didn’t get to do the things in life that I’ve always wanted.

We’re not dead yet, so don’t talk to us like we’re about to be.

I just want it to stop. All of it. The pain. The suffering. The fucking cancer. I want it gone. I need it gone, Jean. It’s tearing me apart inside. God, I hate this. Even all the lying I’m doing to Parker. It’s breaking my heart.

I was pissed that I couldn’t go out and celebrate like someone turning twenty-one typically would, so I wore black hair to show my family just how pissed off I was.

You don’t need to be someone you’re not. Haven’t you learned that? Stop being scared and face the world. I know you’re not in remission yet, but who can say they have been through cancer twice and beat it? Confront the world, Aundrea. You’re alive. Be proud of the strong woman you are and stop hiding behind your wig.

My fingers stop spinning the thumb ring that sits perfectly on my left hand. Blinking, I meet Dr. Olson’s

cried the entire time my mom shaved my head. She wanted to cut it shorter and wait, but I wanted to be in control. I needed to be in control. I was going to make the decision of when my hair got to leave my body. Not someone else or my cancer. People

Everything and anything that you will give me. I want it all. I want to be your legs when you can’t walk. I want to be your arms when you’re too weak to eat. I want to be there for you day and night.

Soon you won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not because you’ll just be living in that head of yours! An

I can’t pick a favorite book, explaining that it’s not about what or who is the best, but rather the story itself. Each book is different and unique, bringing out the best emotions in me. I love getting pulled out of reality—away from the reminders of my pain. When