меня очень легко довести до истерики, с помощью одной вещи

I can feel a headache coming, so I’m going to try and keep this brief. I’m sorry I put you through this, that you had to watch me die. I’m sorry I missed our date, that I never got to sit across the table from you at some stupidly expensive restaurant and try to eat with drug heavy hands. I’m sorry that we’re never going to be able to grow old together, that we can’t ever be a family, that I can’t ever get down on one knee and ask you to never leave me. I mean, I don’t know if you want all that, but I do. Just because I can’t ever have it doesn’t mean I don’t want it. I’m sorry that I’m not going to be there to help you get well. I’m sorry that I can’t hold your hand when you don’t remember that you’re strong.

I want you to promise me that you won’t stay sad, that you’ll live even if I can’t. I know you can, you’ve always been stronger than me. You have to go on, fight the cancer and find someone who loves you like I do. I want you to be happy and to be brave.

Don’t worry about me, I’m probably okay now, or something close to it. I still don’t know if there’s a pearly white forever, but if there is, I promise I’ll wait for you there, no matter how long it takes. Just because my heart stops doesn’t mean I’m not going to be there for you. You’ve always had me and you always will. Even when I lost my memory, it was never forever. I’ll always come back to you and you can always come back to me.