Page 47 of Part of Forever
“You’re okay though?” he asks.
“Yes. All clear now.” At least, I should be. I know there’s a possibility of more growth in the future, but Doctor Barker didn’t see any signs of tumors anywhere else on my scan. “I’m good.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” He pulls me into a tight hug. “That doesn’t change anything for me, okay?”
I nod against his chest. I really shouldn’t have been so afraid to tell him. I need to tell Grace, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation yet. I don’t know if she’ll be as forgiving.
“I love you,” he whispers against my hair, pressing his lips to my head. I close my eyes, relishing this feeling. See, I didn’t have to worry. He still loves me.
“I love you, too,” I whisper back. A weight that’s been on my chest suddenly feels lighter. I told him the truth, and he didn’t run away. I didn’t ruin anything.
He tugs on my hand. “Let’s get you home, or I might spend all night kissing you, and I don’t think your mom would appreciate that.”
I laugh. “Probably not.”
He gives my hand three squeezes, and I do the same.
journal entries from the past two weeks
February4
Dear Journal,
Hi, yeah, it’s me, Rosie, again. It’s been a while since I last wrote in this journal, or even wrote in general. I’m still not sure why I picked up this journal to write in today, since I’m not even writing about Tucker, which is what most of the old entries are about. I mean, we are together now!! But that’s not why I’m writing.
I had another tumor.
I was months away from being 9 YEARS in remission and I got a new tumor. One that I didn’t even feel or know I had. I just got home from the hospital. I had surgery to have it removed.
I’m still sore and recovering (obviously), but Tucker and Grace finally left and I can finally feel relieved that my tumor is OUT OF MY BODY! See, they don’t know. I didn’t tell them. I lied the day of the surgery and said it was an emergency surgery to get my appendix out. Now, I do feel sort of bad about that, but things have just been so good with me and Tucker, and even me and Grace, and with dance, and I didn’t want to ruin any of it.
So I lied. I feel bad. My appendix is fine, and still in my body.But I can’t seem to find the words to tell them. They don’t suspect a thing, which makes it a little easier. I’m just so mad about it and I’m not ready to bring my anger into my new relationship.
I don’t think Tucker’s noticed yet, because when I’m with him it’s easier to pretend that everything is fine. It’s easy to pretend that it’s just us against the world and that hard things don’t happen to us. We don’t really talk about the hard stuff, and right now, I’m okay with that.
We hold hands, and he kisses me every chance we get. We don’t think about how in the summer, he’ll go on tour, right before I leave for Paris.
I think Grace can tell something is up, even though she hasn’t actually asked me about it. Nathan told me after they left that I need to say something, that I need to tell them. After all, she’s my best friend and Tucker’s my boyfriend.
But I’m just so mad about the tumor.
How could my cancer come back after everything I’ve been through? How could God (if there is a God) do this to me? Why is this happening? Why now, when I found out earlier today that I got into Paris? I know the surgery went great and the tumor is gone, but what if something else is wrong? What if Doctor Barker actually missed something? And maybe she didn’t, maybe she’s right, but I still have to go in once a month (even in Paris) for scans and tests to make sure I’m still all clear.
I thought my body was past this. I thought I was done with all the pokes and prods and lying still in a huge tube.
I can’t dance for at least a month or two. That seems like a lifetime.
I don’t know who I am without dance.
I’m scared that my career will be ruined because of this, because I don’t have this time to train and work toward Paris. I got in, yes, but I can tell that Mom’s worried about me not dancing for a month (or even longer).
I love dance, but I loved it when it was just fun. Right now, it doesn’t feel fun. It feels like I’ve had a limb ripped off my body, like I can’t breathe.
None of this seems fair.
And then there’s Lucy. This girl I met at cancer therapy. She’s so happy and bright and cheery and it makes me insane. She’s got this brain tumor and basically just lives from surgery to surgery because there’s nothing she can do. She has it worse than I do (so why am I complaining??? I mean, my life still sort of feels like it’s over, like something has shifted) but how is she still so happy? How does she still smile and ask me how my day was when she’s obviously in so much pain?
Part of me really wants to hate her, but I also kind of like her and I guess there’s a part of me that wishes I could be more like her. But then I go back to not liking her because she’s dying and seems so happy still. I don’t get it.
