I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.

I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.

If I learnt anything at all about terminal illness in my research, it's that the experience is different for everyone. I do believe that life becomes concentrated when it's boundaried and that death is the biggest boundary of all.

Adam strokes my head, my face, he kisses my tears. We are blessed. Let them all go. The sound of a bird flying low across the garden. Then nothing. Nothing. A cloud passes. Nothing again. Light falls through the window, falls onto me, into me. Moments. All gathering towards this one.

She'll understand what I already know - that death surrounds us all. And it tastes like metal between your teeth.

And now he's down this for me. He's made me famous. He's put my name on the world.

Then she says, ‘I love you.’ Like three drops of blood falling onto snow.