They told me there was nothing I could do, the cancer was too far gone, my hope, or even desire for hope, was non-existent.
The first few days were hard, I fought with everyone, dug holes throughout my life, pushed everyone in my life away, turned them against me.
I know, your thinking stupid thoughts right now. Like, why would someone facing an impossible future, destroy every relationship their short, uninteresting life had going for it?
I’ll tell you my answer, I’ll let you see my side of things, and then, when this is over, maybe you’ll see why, and understand.
I’d lived what I would call a carefree, simple life, where I waded through it undaunted by each and every twist and turn, I’d just gone with the flow. In doing that, anyone who really meant anything to me, who’d been important to me physically, important to me emotionally, had long flown the coup, and all that was left were the worthless, shitstains that life had handed nothing but bitterness to, these people, these things I’d called friends, or, at the very lest, people I knew for too long and accepted they were the only sort I’d ever associate with, they required no maintenance, no care, nothing, and I was fine with that.
When I discovered the cancer, the shit eating away at me, I changed, I realised, these people were the cause, these maggots were eating away at me like the cancer, and I pushed back, I became heartless, these fucks had taken too much, gained too much, while I had nothing.
I lived a life worth nothing, with worthless people, people I didn’t want around me in the end, plain and simple, because, in the end, I fucking hated them all, and they, well, they didn’t really like me either.
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