Dear diary,

I have received the worst news. Though it is not unexpected. I have been feeling terrible for weeks, and now I know why, and I wish I could say it is a comfort… I still hate the news. I am dying, and sooner than is fair. I am sick, and the doctors can do nothing for me.

I have thought a long time before writing my thoughts down, thinking what I can say, what I should say. What do you do or say when you know that you are dying? I guess you could say it was a good life. That you… that is to say I lived life to the fullest, and have no regrets. But that is untrue. I did life a good life, though not to it’s fullest, and I have plenty of regret. But I was kind, and cared for others. I did what I wanted, and though I made plenty of mistakes. I don’t know if I’d really change anything. Perhaps I would date more, have more fun, not let nerves get the best of me, to be more bold and daring. To take school more seriously and get things done quicker… but really that is contrary to each other.

Then I guess you’d give advice to those who may read in the future… though really that’s lame, I’ve always thought so. Let them live their lives, and let others live theirs, be excellent to each other. And be happy.