I know I asked to be debt free before the year was through around about this time last year, but I didn’t think you – or anyone else was actually listening. What I meant was that I wanted the self control I needed to get to that point, since the finish line was so close. Only a year to go, you know? I didn’t mean I wanted the money in one lump sum at the expense of so much. I’ve seen the movies; you know the ones, the hero makes a wish and it’s granted, but they have to lose or relinquish something in return? Well, I know it may have sounded like I was into that last year, but it’s only because I didn’t believe it would happen. I wasn’t ready to make a trade, I didn’t realise I was making a contract. It was just a New Year’s resolution kind of thing.
You worked pretty fast on your plan, I’ll give you credit for that. If it was an eBay transaction you’d get five stars. But I think you went a little over the top. I didn’t need as much money as you dropped in my lap in exchange for everything within it. You didn’t even check for a ballpark figure. You just put the cancer in there, quietly, and with it you took away from me the reason Why I needed to get out of debt so fast. Did you know we’d been trying for almost a year already? Did you know and do it on purpose, as a joke on me? Did you know that you’d break my heart and this would be the thing I’d be crying over months later while everyone else was just thankful I was still alive? That’s what I’m imagining, here.
I’d give the money up, you know. If it meant I could go back to this time last year. And not have cancer or to have had to have all of the radiotherapy that’s scarred me inside and out. To be able to get pregnant, just one more time. To not be lying in bed at 3am crying in the dark over a future lost. I don’t even want to spend the money. It feels dirty, like it’s blood money; it’s nothing in compensation for what I’ve lost.
So yeah. If you could take it all back, drop me off at the beginning of 2012… I’d like that, a lot.