I remember laying in bed in excruciating pain thinking "Well, This is it. I may never know what happens next." It was like reading a novel and then finding out the last half of the book was gone. No ending. No reason. Never written. I wondered if my sister would graduate. I wondered if my parents would ever retire after giving all their money to the church. I wondered what would have happened with me and Alex. I imagined what our future might have looked like. Maybe we would have bought a house? Maybe we would have had children? Gotten married? Maybe he would dump me? Maybe I dump him? I would never get to know because I would be gone. Buried deep or burned to ash.
The first time I told Alex I loved him was not exactly epic. I wanted to tell him "I love you" at the state fair. I had the perfect opportunity too; riding those sky lift chairs that go over the park. Then I realized if he did not say it back I would have to jump! So I waited until I was nice and drunk to blurt it out. He said it right back. The words I love you had evolved since then. Alex was more then a lover. He was becoming my partner. He was still here even though it was possible I would be gone.
But right here, right now, with my hand firmly pressed on wall of Rogaine I was going to find out what happens next. Do I live or do I die? Perhaps I should make a commercial for Wal-mart. This aisle designed mostly for Hair restoration products was also the perfect location to find out "No Emma. You are not going to die."
It is cliché to say "life is short" or "Life is preciouses." As a writer I'm longing for something more poetic. How about this.... Life is like male pattern baldness. No one really knows how it works. You can spend your life obsessing about how to fix it. Or you can embrace the inevitable.