I found this old thing on my computer. Uhm... Keep in mind that I never had cancer so it's just really an assumption.
"I used to have such a great life" he mentioned suddenly. I looked at him annoyed, but it quickly faded away as soon as I looked at his figure. The way he looked up to the sky… it was so bittersweet. He caught me off guard.
"Used to?" I asked. Because it didn't made much sense. "I know cancer was though, but you're cured…" I continued. He still refused to look at me, staring instead of the stars.
"Cancer...Huh?" he said. "That's not the problem, dummy."
Didn't make any sense. Again.
"Then what is? Matthias, what's the problem if not the fact that you had to fight with an life-threating, deadly disease, which has no reliable cure?" I asked.
He laughed. It sounded sweet, but it gave off a melancholic vibe. Really unusual.
"Lukas… You're so naive!" he claimed. And I was just struck… It«s supposed to be the other way around.
"Lukas," he started, looking at me for the first time since the start of the conversation, "yes, you're naive. All of you who're convinced I'm cured are naive. The worst in cancer is that you'll never know when will it come back. Maybe tomorrow I'm diagnosed again."
I looked at him. I understood what he meant. "So...That's the worst part of your illness?" My voice was a bit shaky.
And he bursted out in a quiet laugh again. For someone who had just claimed that he'd be probably sentenced to years of long suffering and torture, he seemed to enjoying himself a bit too much. I glared at him, so he stopped.
"No. That's probably the best part you can have after the struggle."
"Then?"
"Time stops" he exclaimed. "Time stops for you. And you only. For the others it's going on. And while you're stuck in your highschool memories, others already moved on. They accepted your death faster. A lot faster."
"What... no!" He looked at me with a bit of pity, so I was desperate to convince him. "It's wrong. None of us could accept your death!"
"Too bad. You already did" he muttered, "You, Tino, Berwald, Emil and… even Lars. All of you… moved on. And you know what?" He suddenly turned towards me. "You should. You should move on. I'm serious, before you doubt me. Find happiness and get over it quickly!"
I ignored the advices, if you can call them that, and I jumped straight to 'it'. "What 'it'? What should I get over quickly? What have you meant by 'it'?" I asked.
"My death!" he said. His voice is so calm. It's almost ridiculous.
"I'm sorry, but if I remember correctly, you're still alive and cured from cancer entirely" I remarked. He looked at me. His eyes showed pity. Pity, that hides something else. Sadness and despair. At that moment I knew: he gave it up. He won't fight anymore to live. If cancer would come back he'd give up.
"It won't come back!" I cried out.
It didn't really. For 4 years. Then he was diagnosed again. Just as he predicted it. But contrary to his claim, he fought for it. But he had no energy to struggle more. So, he died after a year.
But this wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that he had been right all along. We moved on. All of us, except his parents.
But I'm not angry with myself, and I won't torture myself with how heartless I am. 'Cause he wanted us to move on. And even before that conversation I had moved on. I just denied it. Maybe I just caused more pain with that.