All you need is love. . .And new tits

I can finally, finally confess that I'm madly in love. And for once it's not one-sided. I can say, with complete confidence, that my soul mate has fallen out of the sky. So much so that I'm rethinking my atheism.

Yes, it's fucked-up timing. But in a way, it's divine. I have a true partner—in addition to my uber-supportive network of friends and family—to fight the BC battle with me.

He doesn't care that I'll be bald. Or nipple-less for four months. (It's really disgusting, but they have to wait to put the nipples on the implants until chemo is done. Lovely, huh?) Actually, I don't think I've told him about the nipples, but he won't care. He loves me for me, craziness and all. He actually seems to find my neuroses endearing.

He is hands down, one of the most spectacular people I've ever met. He's not Jewish, he's not a businessman, he doesn't come from my world, and I could give two shits. This control freak is completely out of control and loving it.

I always thought I'd get breast cancer. I'm oddly intuitive about weird things. But I never, ever thought I would find a love like this.

The book is now on autopilot. If only there were an invisible hand to actually sit and type for me.