The Moment That Defines You

Dear Best Friend,

I feel as if I can remember the exact moment I thought my world was ending. My life, as a whole, has been relatively normal. After all, when you grow up in an off-the-grid town in the middle of Kansas, could you expect your life to stray beyond anything normal? I supposed I should have expected it, i really should have know that my life wouldn't be normal forever. I guess I always expected my tragic event to happen later in life, when I had lived and grown wiser. I've always been the person to rely on the people closest to me. In my eyes, that's where my problem first began.

I've know you for as long as I can remember, and we've been attached at the hip for even longer. I remember the first I tired rollerblades, you were there. Helping me along, as always. I was scared, but you told me I could do it, and that the only thing holding me back was myself. I was there when you got your wisdom teeth removed. I brought you a Diet Coke and helped you clean up your drool from the gauze in your mouth. I'll also never forget my first concert, or when I found my passion for volleyball. I'll never forget those moments, because you were right by my side.

The signs of the unfortunate events that were about to unfold started out slow at first. It was the summer after our sophomore year, and we were high on life. If I think hard enough, I can still feel the sun beating down on our backs as we laid in my backyard, and said whatever was on our minds. In the beginning the only thing I noticed was your slight cough. It went on for months, but how should I have known any better? Then you took a trip to visit your family in Washington. You called me on the phone and said that you couldn't keep up with your grandma while hiking, we laughed and joked about how we needed to go to the gym. Things only got worse from there, and I should have seen it coming. I remember you leaving my house late at night, canceling our sleeping overs because you felt so sick that you couldn't sleep. Finally the fevers set in, and you went in for blood tests. Doctors claimed it was mono, or perhaps the flu. After weeks of no results, you were referred to an oncologist.

On September 15th, 2017 I got a call while I was in school. I heard your voice come over the phone saying "it's cancer". The next weeks to come were the worse. You missed school, and when we were together I had to keep myself from falling apart. If I couldn't even be strong for myself, how was I supposed to be strong for you? As I walked through the halls I felt the stares from our peers, the looks of pity. People mumbled "I'm sorry" as I walked into class, but sorry wasn't good enough. I needed an explanation. Why you? You were the most fiercely selfless person I had ever met, I couldn't understand why it had to be you. I remember your first day of chemo, we laughed and ate popcorn, both of us trying to push away the fear clawing at the pit of our stomaches. I was there when you started losing your hair, and I was there when you decided to shave it. Weeks of our lives seemed to be filled with sadness and anxiety of the unknown months ahead of us.

It's now that I wanted to tell you, you have to keep fighting. Your illness does not define you, you a more than a diagnosis. You matter, and you are not alone. I love you.

Sincerely,

Jayla