One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and… I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire. The nurse asked me to rate the pain, though I couldn’t speak I held up nine fingers. Later, when I start to feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. "You know how I know?" she said, "you called a 10 a 9." But that wasn’t the truth. I didn’t called it a 9 ‘cause I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10.
And this was it. This was the great and terrible 10.
"Where was awhile when I was younger, where it was really hard, and then I could never stop thinking about him, and then one day he text me and he was in venice, Italy and he texted me and said ‘You would love it here’ and then I just knew everything was just gonna…work itself out. I don’t know, not being with me made him sad too. So, we worked it out."
and then she cries a little and then WE ALL CRY ALOT...or was that just me?-Meester