Sometimes reading about other's struggles is a good idea. I was just on planetcancer's forums, lurking as it were, and reading about those who are in remission, and have been for quite some time, and thinking "yes, that could be me." Only, just as often, I find myself staring at the words that have come to haunt me: "this is dedicated to (his/her/their) memory." My stomach drops, tears well up behind my eyes, and the sadness sets in. Because it's a reality. I try to act like I'm not living with cancer; the disease has been eradicated from my body and there are no more remnants of it to be found. But then I think, no, it's still there, waiting for a moment when I let down my guard, when I'm happy again, just to come back and take me down again. I pray that my name is never in that empty slot of "Dedicated in loving memory. She left us too soon." And soon means young. Before I have time to lament about crow's feet and kids. Before I can receive an invitation to my tenth high school reunion; and promptly turn it down. Before I can bitch about gravity doing a number on my body and how my eyesight is failing and that things sure ain't what they used to be. Before I can get married and have a house on the beach and stare at the ocean while on a swinging on a hammock. Before I can learn to surf or mountain climb or go to an exotic island. Before I can buy my own car and not have to worry about the payments because I actually saved enough. Before I can forgive myself for whatever mistakes I've been able to make in the short time I've been an actual adult.

I try not to give my fears any voice. Because it feels like if I say it, it makes it true. Which means that if I say "It's not coming back" that will make that true, but for some reason it never seems to work like that. It doesn't mean that I live everyday waiting for the other shoe to drop. That I'm not "Staying Positive" (see cliche post). It just means that there are moments when the idea of death, of dying, of having an epitaph comes and sits next to me. But I once told my father "You can't live your life afraid of dying." And that's what I tell myself when these nagging thoughts come to play mind games. And sometimes I'll take an Atavan to make sure that I can make it through. But just as often, those words are all I need to remember that all those things I mentioned above are still within my reality.