Fuck you Peter!
You brought me down when life had only just started to skyrocket! I had just started the study of my dreams at the most amazing university and had met wonderful new people, including my fantastic boyfriend and there was going to be no limit to what I was able to achieve. And then you occurred, you fucking fuck! You broke my world, and forced me into another world of hospitals and solitude. You forced me to fight for my life instead of my dreams. I had to watch you make everyone that loved me suffer and fear if I was going to make it, I had to wake up every day waiting to see if the treatment was going to work. And then the good news came and I got my life back and I thought I had conquered you just like I had conquered all the other obstacles in my life. My perfect world was within my reach again and for a while I thought everything was back to normal. But now I realize it is not. Because the most horrible thing about you Peter, you sneaky piece of shit, is that you can come back at any moment. There is no guarantee that I am safe from your awful existence, and because of that you have cost me so much more than those 5 months of treatment. Because of you I don't trust my body anymore, I have no trust that I too will become old. Everything I feel in my body sends my into a state of panic because I think it's you destroying me from inside again. Fuck Peter, I would go through losing all my hair 20 times more if that gave me the guarantee that you would never show up again, but I can't get that guarentee. I have to wait and see if you will not grace me with your presence again. And because of that I am no longer the confident, optimistic, strong person I used to be. I am now a person that lives in fear because I know how it feels to lose everything, and drives herself crazy thinking that you are going to come back, and that this time no treatment is going to work, and you will kill me and rob me of my future, and worst of all leave my parents without their daughter and my brother without his sister. Most of all Peter, I hate you for making me feel sorry for myself, something that I have never felt before because I believed that I created my own luck. Now I know that shit happens for no good reason and so I feel sorry for myself which makes me feel pathetic.
But you know what Peter, I will find myself again. Next week the doctors are going to tell me that you are not in fact back to kill me, and I am going to continue living my life and slowly but surely I will regain myself and start trusting my body again and I will prove to myself and my loved ones that you are a thing of the past and that you were just a bump in the road. Just a fucking bump. I know you can come back whenever, and there is nothing I can do about it, but I can change the way I cope with that thought. That is something you can't take a away from me.
Leave my body the fuck alone because if you show up again, I will fight again and you will lose again!
-Girl making her comeback
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