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Dear Edward,

I know it's been almost a decade since we last spoke. I don't even know if your eyes will ever see me again. You've always liked my old-fashioned habits, so I hope this letter amuses you. No one writes letters anymore. Technology has taken over our lives for better or worse. I miss the smell of old books inside a bookstore, since now they have practically become extinct replaced by the kindle unlimited. But I digress… why am I writing you now?

Well, truth be told I miss you more than ever, my dear best friend. Life has taken its bitter turns and changes and I'm not doing so good. I need a lifeline, someone to hold on to. I feel like if I don't have anchor I might simply float away into nothingness. Every single milestone has taken me here, to this moment in the endless cycle of suffering. I've lost a part of me and I fear I may never recover.

You know what brings a smile to my face? Memories of you… I wonder if your dreams are your reality. How I wish your life turned out exactly how you imagined it in your seventeen year old brain. Mine not so much. I mean do you really imagine yourself getting biopsied, having a positive result and told you have cancer? No, I think not. I'm tired of hearing the phrase "you got the good cancer, you won't die from this," and yet I have to endure for the rest of life with a condition and pills. Yes, I'm thankful that I've survived and I will continue to survive this disease, but it doesn't stop the emotional baggage that comes along with it, the loneliness and overwhelming fear that swallows unawares. For once, I understand the existence of support groups, of having other people talk about their experiences and give you encouragement. Only someone who has lived it can empathize with what you're going through.

I feel unrecognizable, like my body has been violated. I want to be normal, feel like me again. The sad truth is I may never feel it. That's the cruel reality of my existence, to accept this as my now and my future. Change my worldview and see the positives of every little detail and discard the bad apples that fall on my way. It is easier said than done. My mind is my own enemy, and how can you conquer something that's attacking from within? Can I cut it out like the cancer?

Life is a cruel bitch, who feels entitled to take away when you least expect it the little joys you've accumulated. So, here I'm trying to relieve some of those joys in my remembrance of you.

Keep smiling, Edward.

Love,

Bella