What are you supposed to do when you’re in the midst of a war you can’t win? Don’t go down without a fight is the advice most commonly offered. But the little voice whispers in my ear, “what’s the point, my dear, when the end result’s the same?” The voice makes a point. Why am I here? I feel like I’m waiting for death to take me. Because no matter how hard you fight, no matter the strength of your spirit, this cancer will not be denied. It may take a few punches, but it won’t be knocked down. For it plays to win; failure is not an option. And I’m just tired. So tired. How long do I have to do this when I know there’s no light at the end of the tunnel? There are things I will miss – the smell of the ocean, the breeze through my hair. There are people I will l miss – my father who gladly took me in when all hell broke loose, my best friend who stood by me when everyone else left, who was closer than the sister I never had, my charismatic goddaughter who gives me hope for the future with her loving spirit, and my loyal four-legged soulmate who wakes me each morning with a lick on the face and a tail wagging a mile a minute. These are the things I will miss the most. But beyond these things, I still hear the tick-tock of time running out. And although it saddens me and fills me with fear, there is also a sense of relief. It may sound selfish, I know, but life is too crushing for some. I will forever cherish the good times, the plethora of magical moments, but the train is coming – maybe a year from now, maybe two, but it’s coming and it can’t be stopped.