Not Another Statistic

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life too short to date a guy who was never around, so I broke up with him. I would later learn that he was cheating on me. I debated a person who I found arrogant and controlling. She manipulated my friends into ditching me. I began pounding enlightenment philosophies the way some people down candy, and I began speaking my mind. I began seeking out television as a means of escape. From that escape, I discovered How I Met Your Mother.

How I Met Your Mother, or HIMYM, completely changed my life. Through the misadventures of Ted, Robin, Lily, Marshall, and Barney, I was able to discover what I wanted out of life. I wished for a solid friend group, a job I loved, and a significant other who would one day wish for a time machine so he could go back in time and meet me even sooner. Despite the pathetic finale, the series was amazing, and I continue to watch my favorite episodes on bad days. I began to get my life back in order. I established a solid base of internet friends, and I met a special person through the tangles of matrixed coding that define international email communication. But then I got hit by a ton of bricks.

I was rewatching an episode of HIMYM in which a character made a prolific speech about death and love. Usually, I am realistic enough not to be touched by gestures by that, but I realized that if I ever got into another serious relationship that special someone could find himself wishing that he could go back in time and make a speech over how he wishes he could have a little over a month of extra days with me. Then I realized what was going to happen. I was finally hit with the reality of VHL: Death.