"So what's your story?" he asked, sitting down next to me at a safe distance.
"I already told you my story. I was diagnosed when-"
"No, not your cancer story. Your story. Interests, hobbies, passions, weird fetishes, etcetera."
"Um," I said.
"Don't tell me you're one of those people who becomes their disease. I know so many people like that. It's disheartening. Like, cancer is in the growth business, right? The taking-people-over business. But surely you haven't let it succeed prematurely."
I read this book halfway through about two months ago, when I finally had a free Monday schoolnight to do whatever I wanted. No readings or assignments to rush through. I could go anywhere. Do anything. So I decided to finally read something of my own choice, instead of something that was assigned to me.
(I know, right? What has become of my life? Staying in a building 24/7, and the one chance I have to go out and do whatever I want I decide to stay in and read like I've been doing the entire term anyway. My parents would be shocked, what with all my 1am nights before school started.)
Anyway, I thought I'd be able to start and finish it that night, but I didn't, and I didn't have the chance to read the rest of it after that, so I decided to restart the book (and I will finish it today). It's funny. I see a lot more now that I read it again even though I already saw and understood all this the first time. Like this quote. I liked it the first time I saw it, and I believe in it too, but it's only now that I decide to type it down. Perhaps because now I am so much more fascinated by the wealth of experiences and lessons and opinions behind each passing face, how nobody is one-dimensional, someone who seems completely uninteresting have their own beautiful moments if only you are willing to look.