Things Unsaid

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Checking out from the hospital at 3:02pm was liberating. I was free from hospital food and constant tests. Granted, I was starting a completely new chapter of my life. Nothing would ever be the same again.

The drive back home was long, awkward and boring. No one really said anything. I knew that they were still trying to deal with the news and all, but I really just wanted to feel like everything was as normal as possible. A smile lit across my saddened face as my phone vibrated in a heart beat pattern.

Jake - how r u doing?

Me - fine. awkward trip back.

Jake - sorry to hear that. :(

Me - just texting u makes it better :)

Jake - good 2 know :)

We kept texting back and forth. I may have been the only one smiling in that car but it was wonderful. After the ever changing moment back in the hospital, I realized that the only one who truly could understand what I was going through was Jake. Yes, it may seem overly cheesy and pathetic, oh and totally unrealistic, that this beautiful hot boy suddenly became my boyfriend and all that, but he was perfection on earth. 

And hey, just maybe, if it's possible that we will both die early, then maybe it's possible that we both discovered eachother as soulmates early on too. Never before had I ever sound like such a stereotypical teen in love, but hey, if you're going to die, why not live? 

"Is anyone getting hungry?" Dad asked.

Christine groggilly woke up from her mini car slumber at the thought of food. "Food sounds good to me!"

"Angie?" 

"Sure, I could eat."

They pulled into the nearest rest stop and brought out the GPS system to find what restaurants were around. Mom stepped out of the car for a bathroom break, and considering the fact that we appeared to be literally in the middle of nowhere, I decided to join her. After all, nothing is worse than needing a bathroom on the thruway. Christine and Dad stayed back in the car to search the wise inter-webs for food options. The rest stop was pretty cute. It had a whole bunch of little food court type places and a coffee shop. The coffee was tempting, but I opted not to grab any. The only escape from the awkward car ride was sleep, and the less caffeine in me, the easier that would be.

We went to the bathroom and then Mom walked over to a little table in the coffee shop area. At first I thought that she was just going to grab something in her purse or grab a coffee or something, but then she turned to me and motioned for me to sit down at the table with her.

"Look, I'm not going to lie to you or pretend that this doesn't bother me. What I do want you to know though, is that I love you. I always have and always will. You are my little girl and I am  so proud of everything you have done and will do. You're a strong young lady who's stronger than this." She began to be choked up in her own words. It bothered me to see her so upset.

"Mom, it's okay." Instead of calming, those three words brought on more tears.

"No, Angie. It's not okay that you have cancer. Why would this ever happen to you? It's not fair, Angie, it's just not fair." Bursting into tears, she was a total mess. I gave her a hug and told her that I loved her too.

"We're going to get you through this." She said trying to clear up the tears.

"I have no doubt, Mom." 

The moment was beautiful in a sad, emotional way. Next thing I knew, a barista from the coffee shop walked over.

"Is there anything I could get for you two? Latte? Tissues? Hug?"

I smiled. This barista was too kind. Most people would probably get annoyed when being noticed in public having a cry fest, but it actually was kind of nice to have someone else step in. Besides, coffee is ALWAYS the answer.

"One french roast espresso for me." Mom ordered, finally giving a little smile.

Before I didn't think coffee was going to be a great idea, but my mind had definitely changed. "Mocha Latte for me, please. Thank you."

The barista walked off and without saying anything my mom and I looked at each other, sharing the moment. Everything was complicated and emotional. The toll cancer was going to take was a ton and a half, but nonetheless, I made a little pact with my mom. No more secrets, no more lies, and open emotions. When the barista came back with our lattes, we tipped her extra and decided to sit and enjoy the coffee there for a bit longer. We could only have that moment for so long, but hey, home could wait.

The little moments after all are what life is worth living for.