Chapter 13 Chapter Twelve What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

Of course, this also explains many aspects of the Internet's pros and cons. "Lot 2200. A last-minute addition to this afternoon's auction, an extremely rare opportunity for collectors of vintage books. Tamerlane and Other Poems by Edgar Allan Poe Written by Poe when he was eighteen, signed 'A Bostonian', only fifty copies were in print. In any sizable collection of rare books, Timur would be the crown jewel Pearl. This book has a slightly damaged spine and crayon marks on the cover. It cannot be emphasized enough that these damages do not in any way detract from the beauty and rarity of this item. Bidding starts at $20,000."

The book sold for $72,000, slightly above the psychological price point.After deducting the handling fee and tax, it was just enough to cover AJ's operation and the first round of radiation therapy. Even after receiving the check from Christie's, AJ had doubts about whether to proceed with the treatment.He still thinks that the money would be better spent on Maya going to college. "No," Maya said, "I'm smart. I'll apply for a scholarship. I'll write the saddest admissions essay in the world about how I was an orphan girl abandoned in a bookstore by a single mother, and the How did my adoptive father have the rarest brain tumor in the world, but look at me, a decent member of society. Everyone eats it, Dad."

"You have a thick skin, my little nerd." AJ laughed at the monster he had created. "I have money, too," insisted his wife.The bottom line is that the important women in AJ's life wanted him to live, and he booked surgery. "As I sit here, I can't help thinking that 'Late Blossoms' is, in fact, all made up," Amelia said bitterly.She stood up and went to the window, "Do you want the blinds to be raised or lowered? With them up, you have some natural light and a lovely view of the children's hospital across the way. With them down, you can appreciate my pale complexion under the fluorescent lights. whatever."

"Pull it up," AJ said, "I want to remember the best of you." "You remember Friedman writing that you can't really describe a hospital room, how a hospital room can make you miserable when your loved ones live in it, and all that crap? We used to How could you think that was poetic? I was disgusted by us before. At this stage of my life, I stand with people who never want to read that book in the first place. I put flowers and flowers on the cover. That designer with those feet is standing together. Because you know what? You can totally describe a hospital room. It's gray and white. That painting is the ugliest painting you'll ever see, it's like a Holiday Inn no stuff. Everything smells like someone's trying to cover up the smell of urine."

"You used to like Late Blossoms, Amy." She hadn't told him about Leon Freedman. "But I don't want to live with the stupid plot of this book when I'm in my 40s." "Do you think I should really have this surgery?" Amelia rolled her eyes, "Yes, I think you should. First of all, there's an operation in twenty minutes, so we probably won't get our money back anyway. Second, you've already With your head shaved, you look like a terrorist. I don't see any reason to retreat now," Amelia said. "Is it really worth the money for two potentially bad years?" he asked Amelia.

"It's worth it." She said as she took his hand. "I remember a woman telling me about the importance of being on the same page. I remember a woman saying she broke up with a veritable American hero because they weren't talking. That can happen to us too, you know ’ said AJ. "That was a different situation," insisted Amelia.A second later, she yells, "Fuck!" AJ thinks something serious must have happened because Amelia never swears. "What's wrong?" "Well, the thing is, I really like your brain." He laughs at her and she's kind of crying.

"Oh, don't cry, I don't need your sympathy." "I'm not crying for you, I'm crying for myself. Do you know how long it took me to find you? Do you know how many bad dates I've had? I can't—" She was breaking down in tears—"I I can’t go on dating websites anymore, I really can’t.” "'Big Bird' - always look ahead." "'Big Bird'. How is this...? We've come this far, you can't use nicknames!" "You will meet someone, and I will." "Asshole. I like you, I'm used to you, you're the only one, you asshole. I don't want to meet new people."

He kissed her, and she reached inside his hospital gown and pinched his crotch. "I love having sex with you," she said. "If you're a vegetable after the operation, can I still have sex with you?" she asked. "Of course." AJ said. "You won't look down on me?" "No." He paused. "We got here talking and talking. I can't tell if I feel comfortable." He said. "You knew me for four years before you asked me out." "That's right." "The day we met, you treated me poorly." "That's right."

"I'm doomed. How can I ever look for someone else?" "You don't seem to care much about my brain." "Your brain is fucked. We all know that. But what am I going to do?" "Poor Amy." "Yes, I used to be the wife of a bookstore owner, and that was pitiful enough. Soon, I will be the widow of the bookstore owner." She kissed every part of his sick head. "I liked the mind before, and I love the mind now! It's a very good mind." "Me too," he said. The nurse came and pushed him away. "I love you." She shrugged resignedly. "I want to leave you with something wiser, but that's all I know."

After waking up, he found that he could still remember the words to some extent.It took him a while to find them, but they were there. Blood. Painkillers. Vomit. bucket. hemorrhoid. diarrhea. water. blister. diaper. ice. After the operation, he was sent to a single wing of the hospital for a month of radiation therapy.His immune system was so weakened by radiation therapy that he couldn't accept visits.It was the loneliest time of his life, lonelier than the one after Nicole died.He wished he could get drunk, but his irradiated stomach couldn't take it.This is life before Maya and before Amelia.One cannot be an island of oneself, or at least one cannot be an ideal island of oneself.

When he's not throwing up or fussing in his half-asleep, he pulls out the e-reader his mother gave him for Christmas last year. (Nurses think e-readers are more hygienic than paper books. “They should have put that on the box,” quipped AJ.) He found he couldn’t stay awake enough to read an entire novel, but short stories were better. .He had always preferred short stories anyway.While reading, he realized that he wanted to make Maya a new list of short stories for her to read.She was going to be a writer, he knew.He wasn't a writer, but he knew something about the business, and he wanted to make sure he could tell her what he knew. "Maya, novels are certainly charming, but in the world of non-poetic writing, short stories are the most elegant. Master how to write short stories, and you master the whole world." Just before he fell into a deep sleep , he thought.I should write this down, he thought.He reached for his pen, but there was nowhere near the toilet bowl he rested on. At the end of radiation therapy, oncologists found that his tumor had neither shrunk nor grown.He gave AJ a year. "Your ability to speak and everything is likely to deteriorate." AJ thought the doctor's voice was inappropriately lively.It doesn't matter, you can go home, AJ is very happy.