You were honest and hardworking and kind. You were polite and patient and more mature than any guy I’d dated before. And when we were together, you listened in a way that made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. You made me feel complete and spending time with you just seemed right.

I love you now for what we've already shared, and I love you now in anticipation of all that's to come.

And when her eyes met mine, I felt something click, like a key turning in a lock.

Making love, she'd always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encompassed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust & commitement, hopes & dreams, a promise to make it through whatever the future might bring. The greater the love; the greater the tragedy when it is over

maturity meant thinking about risk long before you pondered the reward, and that success and happiness in life were as much about avoiding mistakes as making your mark into the world.

I can't live my life happily knowing you're with someone else. That would kill a part of me. What we have is rare. it's too beautiful to just throw it away.

I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve come to learn that predictions don’t mean much. Too much lies outside the realm of medical knowledge. A lot of what happens next comes down to you and your specific genetics, your attitude. No, there’s nothing we can do to stop the inevitable, but that’s not the point. The point is that you should try to make the most of the time you have left.