Well, here’s my typical “taboo” confession for one of these things. I don’t know if I would have married you if I wasn’t deathly ill. I really like you, hell, I do love you. But if I was healthy, I don’t think I would have settled down too soon. Maybe not even with you, even though you’re way better than I deserve. Everyone I’ve ever met sweats you in a way that I just don’t get. And I’m the one who won you, and sometimes I could give a shit. When I think about it, it makes me sick to my stomach. But I don’t have many options in this life; I may be dead any day now. So I took you. And I’ll never tell you that, because you don’t deserve that kind of hurt. And because it’s all hypothetical – IF I wasn’t sick….IF…. ifs are stupid because there are no “ifs” there is just was is. And what is IS that you love me, I’m sick and in the end, I love you too. But you don’t quite set my soul on flame the way you want to. But, hey, what the fuck. Life’s unfair anyway.