40 Days Left
40 days left. I can’t fucking wait. Not that I want to leave Tampa. I love it here. But I can’t fucking wait to finally be with my brother again and to see him everyday for several months in a row, even if it means living in Texas. It has been so long. Almost a decade since we lived together that year in 2006. And before that it was another 5 years. So now we get another year together and this one will be the most cherished of all.
I really hope he beats this cancer. It’s so hard not to be able to do anything about it — not to have any control over the outcome. I like to think that moving there and being there will help, but that is just speculation.
I have this fantasy that my presence will extend his life. I so want it to be true. But it probably isn’t. Can love cure a disease? Can the proximity of that love? I like to speculate the answer is yes — proximity matters, love matters. Shouldn’t it?
He is way too young.
“It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
Bullshit. I don’t think so. I loved my father, he died when I was 5. I loved my mother, she died when I was 21. And I love my brother and now he has cancer. He just turned 38! This is absurd.
So he needs to beat this shit or else I will be truly alone in this world: No family.
No family.
The truth is I enjoy being alone, being independent, being self sufficient and self aware. But right now, I need to spend time with my brother. Because I will never forgive myself if I didn’t take this opportunity to be there with him.
40 days left.
Originally written Nov. 13, 2015, a few months after learning my brother was diagnosed with stage 3 lymphoma. After intense chemotherapy and a splenectomy, his cancer was diagnosed to be in remission roughly 4 months later and has been in remission since.
