Doctors. We went to the appointment. We got home a little while ago. John has weeks to live, so they say. Weeks. Not months. Not years. Weeks. I keep hoping that maybe their wrong. Maybe this is one of those malpractice cases, and they don't know what their talking about. I hope. I wish. I am so sad right now my insides are aching. I drove tonight. I wish I could've kept going. Drive. And drive. I love driving. Fast. Open empty road. Illuminating night sky. Open. Free. I don't know how to feel or what to think right now. I am angry with Pat. Why? Because I don't know. I don't even know him, but it's there. The resentment of something I cannot have and will never have. The same thing with Keith, Mike, Vadim, and Zak. Crushes. Horrible, heart breaking crushes. I give them all up. All of those guys. I won't think about them anymore. And I'll be happy, finally. Screw them if they don't see what I have. Let them settle for normal and boring. I'll wait until my day comes. Shit, only weeks. I'm not ready. I'm not. I'm not.