Another Change

So Sunday night, I dreamt that I had skin cancer. I know it is probably too much Grey's Anatomy in my mind, but it was very real. The doctors showed me pictures of how I would looke like with skin cancer. They gave me two options -- 1) have surgery and live painfully through 18 months, or 2) die in a few weeks. I chose #2 and the goodbyes of every important relationship came and went.

But then I woke up. At 7 am. I felt like I had another chance at life -- that it was mine for the taking. Cliche as it sounds and almost like I stole it out of a dream scene in an 80s family sitcom, I was and still am a happy person.

This did get me thinking, though. Cancer sucks. I am not afraid of dying, but am terrified of how I will die. I neither want to die from disease or in my sleep. I want to die for a reason and be remembered when I do. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll die for someone.

For now, I'll do my best to live every day as it is my last. Screw you guys who despise my cliches. At least I feel alive.