Dearest of all,

     I know that most people can't recognize you anymore, but I still do. I recognize your heart, and not because your battered rib cage and chest have been removed, and in their place is a clear covering that exposes your insides for easy access by medical doctors, but because I know it still beats for me, however slowly that beating may be.

     It doesn't matter that your eyes, nose, upper jaw, and cheek bones were removed. I remember where they were. And who cares that I won't ever touch you because you're so gross-looking. Love transcends the physical realm.

     And just because I don't want to be seen with you in public anymore doesn't mean that I don't think about you when you're not there. I wish you would get better, but the doctors say that the Earth would sooner collide with the sun before that happens, so for this Valentine's Day I'll just say that I sort of love you...from way over here.

Yours for the last six months of your life,

_______________________