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来自：
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写信
: 05-09-2026
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将被发送
: 07-06-2030
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The world fell.
He went away — the diagnosis came after.
Autoimmune Diabetes,
a surprise I was never meant to know, and yet I knew —
a death sentence, now just a variable in my day.
I will survive.
But maybe never overcome it,
because it shapes my life
the way it shaped his — my beloved,
my beloved who is gone.
Bruised and marked
by the small collapses of the disease,
he gave up.
He chose only to live,
chose to eat what he wanted,
not what he should have.
He paid the price.
And he left.
He left me here
with this new condition,
this sentence
that for him meant death,
but for me means life too —
and leaves me
trapped inside a conditional.
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