Dear V,

IV: I am down to four. I miss saying I have you. You gave me hope that I had more time, but now it's slipping away again. Not having you anymore just continually reminds me there are just minutes left. I need you. Four will not fill the empty void inside of me. My faith is draining and I--

III: I am down to three. You made time stand still for me. You are unique and that’s what I love about you. Three and four do not possess the qualities that you do. The silence is excruciating; magnifying the quiet tick of the second hand in the cracked grandfather clock near--

II: I am down to two. I wish I could go back. I wish I hadn't wasted the little time I had with you. I wish it would all just stop or at least slow down, but I am not in control and I must accept--

I: 60 seconds. I have 60 seconds. Please listen to me. Yes, I do dream of having you again, but some dreams don't come true. And I'm ready to accept that. Life is indeed shorter than expected so I implore you to make every second of it count. The cancer has seeped into the cracks of my heart and my entire body is now infected. I do not want to end my life with saying goodbye so instead I will just simply say goodnight for now…