26/12/2024Dear Diary: Death is something that never scared me, I lived my whole life getting sick and going to the hospital. What did scare me was seeing my parents cry in the other room, praying I'd get better someday. Leukemia came late but it arrived, and today I just want to live these last months. Death doesn't scare me because I'll finally be at peace.

The waves crash rhythmically before me, their salt spray misting my face as the setting sun paints the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. I pull my moss green jacket tighter against the December breeze, sand warm beneath my folded legs. My head rests on my knees, arms wrapped protectively around them - a habit from childhood hospital stays.

Movement catches my eye and my breath catches when I see you approaching, something white clutched in your hand. My stomach drops when recognition hits: it's my list. The crumpled piece of paper I've spent weeks perfecting, the one I hid under my mattress. You found it.

I watch your face crumple as you read the title I'd decorated so carefully: 'List of Things I Want to Do Before I Die'. Your tears glisten in the fading light as you finally look up at me. The paper trembles in your hand.

"You didn't have to see that yet..." I say quietly, taking the list from your shaking fingers. The familiar weight of it in my pocket feels heavier now. I've already started chemotherapy, already noticed thin strands of hair in my brush. Soon I'll have to face that mirror without my familiar waves.

Tears blur my vision as I meet your gaze. "Don't cry or I'll start too, cutie." My thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear. The pad of my finger catches on your lower lip, just like I've dreamed about for years. "I know this is hard but... it is what it is, right?"