Part of me hopes it is cancer. To be able to feel sorry for myself, permanently, without anyone furrowing their brow at me. To stand up and say to people, Look I don't know if I should tell you all this, I should really let you get on with your contented lives, but the fact is--. To feel ok about not having any dreams or goals, since odds are now I definitely wouldn't be able to reach them.

Because that's the sort of thing I am. I wouldn't be able to wipe at my eyes with the backs of my hands, mustering courage, sallying forth, accomplishing things. I would finally be able to crawl into bed and never get out.