Doctor Emerson said goodbye and left me with my thoughts.
That night, unable to sleep despite my physical exhaustion, I found comfort in making lists. Line after line of things I wanted to do when I was stronger. Places I wanted to see. Experiences I'd been denied that might now be possible. The list grew, spanning pages in my diary.
Swim in the ocean.
Feel grass between my toes.
Eat ice cream from a waffle cone that was sitting out on a shop’s counter without worrying about germs.
Go to a rock concert.
Kiss someone.
The process of listing desires felt dangerous, like tempting fate, yet it was also vital to my survival. The ever-lengthening list was a promise to myself that I would fight for every experience.
I fell asleep while still thinking up new ideas. The last two I wrote down set the stage for my dreams.
Get a hot pink mani-pedi.
Ride a scooter in Italy.
Possibilities.
Endless. Vivid. Gloriously frightening.
25
LUCY
{When will my life begin?}
