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If I’m going to die, I’d like to actually live first.

I’m tired of living without really living.

Everyone in this world is breathing borrowed air.

...I want to be fearless and free. It's just life, Will. It'II be over before we know it.

...Don’t think about what you’ve lost. Think of how much you have to gain. Live, Stella.

I’m tired of living without really living. I’m tired of wanting things. We can’t have a lot of things. But we could have this.

I’m not going far. I’ll always be here. Just an inch away. I promise.

I know in that moment, even though it could not be more ridiculous, that if I die in there, I won’t die without falling in love.

If this is all we get, then let's take it. I want to be fearless and free," she says, giving me a look, daring me. "It's just life, Will. It'll be over before we know it.

It's just life, Will. It'll be over before we know it.

You scare me Stella." I looked at him, frowning. "What? Why?" He looks into my eyes his voice serious. "You make me want a life I cant have." I know exactly what he means. He shakes his head his face somber. "That's the scariest thing I've ever felt.

If I’m going to die, I’d like to actually live first. And then I’ll die.

We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. I never understood the importance of touch, his touch... until I couldn't have it.

If I'm going to die, I'd like to actually live first. And then i'll die.

For the first time I feel the weight of every single inch, every millimeter, of the six feet between us.

And I realize I'm doing the one thing I've told myself this whole time I wouldn't do. I'm wanting something I can never have.

I have nothing left to give. I have nothing left to-no. I straighten, desperately pulling in one more short breath, knowing deep in my chest that it is the last breath I will ever get, and I gave it to her, I gave her everything to her, the girl I love. She deserves that.

I look at the holiday lights in the distance, twinkling like stars, calling out to me. This time I respond.

So is your plan to die really, really smart so you can join the debate team of the dead?.

I think about that very last breath...sucking for air, pulling and pulling and getting nothing. I think about my chest muscles ripping and burning, absolutely useless. No air — no nothing, just black.

I lie back, putting my hands behind my head, the room seeming uncomfortably quiet even though it’s still just me in here. But as I roll over and turn out the light, I realize for the first time in a long time, I don’t really feel alone.

Getting my hopes up when a hospital is involved doesn't seem like a good idea to me.