Mikki Daughtry

But I look across the pond at Will again, the boy I love, who has B. cepacia and will never get the opportunity in front of me.

I have to choose now.

New lungs?

Or Will?

I look up at him and he smiles at me so wide that it’s not even a contest.

Will was right. Do I want to spend all my time left swimming upstream?

I push off him and try to spin, throwing my arms out, my face turned toward the starry sky. Twirling around and around on the slick ice, I hear his voice.

“God, I love you.”

“You scare me, Stella.”

I look up at him, frowning. “What? Why?”

He looks into my eyes, his voice serious. “You make me want a life I can’t have.”

I straighten, desperately pulling in one more short breath, knowing deep in my chest that it is the last breath I will ever get.

And I give it to her. I give everything I have to her, the girl that I love. She deserves that.

I see the way he looked at me when he said that he loved me, only a few hours ago, on that icy pond.

I see him wanting to kiss me.

And now he smiles that lopsided smile from the day we first met, that familiar light filling his eyes, until he’s out of view

The now-dry panda is tucked safely under her arm, her face peaceful as she sleeps.

I love her.

I used to always be searching for something. Searching from every rooftop for something that would give me a purpose.

And now I’ve found it.

“I don’t want to leave you, but I love you too much to stay.”

“We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe.

Dr. Hamid said I was a fighter.

But I really don’t know that I am anymore.