Dear Ben

Dear Ellen,

And the truth comes out. Ben is sick. Ben is really sick.

He's not going to Boston, he's not trying to start over, he's dying. And there's nothing that we can do about it, wait no, there's nothing that he wants us to do about it.

So what now? We sit here and let him die? I don't want to be nonchalant. I don't want to here, "Oh, everybody dies someday." I know that. I know we all die someday, but why does he have to die now? Why can't he die from old age or something?

There's something we can do. There has to be. I don't even know what to say anymore, because I can't talk without crying. Alex says we have to let go. But you know what?

I'm fed up with listening to what everyone else says. This whole year, my whole life, all I ever think is "Mom says" "Ellen says" "Ben says" "Alex says" People tell me (there I go again), "Can't you think for yourself?"

And now I am. And nobody listens.

Love,
Olivia

P.S. I really don't know what I'm going to do without him.