My older brothers just left the hospital after spending all afternoon here watching me. I can't do much because I sleep most of the day and only wake up to drink some water every now and then. It tires me just to lift my head off the pillow and talk to my visitors, but I always enjoy their company. I'm semi-conscious most of the time, so I can see who's around, but I can't find the strength to speak. I don't really like eating because I have a hard time swallowing food. Doctors are prescribing me this new type of treatment called intravenous therapy, where I have a needle inserted into my body and there's a bag of fluid that supplies my nutrients. I heard it is quite expensive compared to regular treatment. It may not all sound so good to me, but the doctors say I'll be able to leave soon in a few days, so I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime they just want me to rest and see more visitors because it helps improve my mood. My older brothers started to get to know me better during my time here; they come to visit me quite often, so I don't feel alone. Before, they rarely paid attention to me or really let me into their lives. I imagine there are many reasons for this, some of which are the age difference between the three of us; one of them is two years older, but he's always out doing his own thing with friends, so I don't get to play with him much, and the other is much older. The older one talked to me a lot when I was younger, but after coming back from the war he spent many days lying in bed looking at the ceiling. I still really like it, though, because sometimes we think the same way, and we both really love writing. He is more in... middle of paper... yes, with this level of leukemia I won't last many more days, but I will fight to stay awake as long as possible. I hope Holden and DB can come visit me one more time because I love it when they read Emily Dickinson to me. I hope that when I'm gone, Holden will remember me. I want him to know that I will always be with him and that there will be hope in all situations, as Dickinson once said: "Hope is that thing with feathers that sits in the soul - and sings tunes without words - and never stops completely." For DB, my love for you is eternal and “Love is before life, after death, initial of creation and exponent of breath”. Since this may be the last thing I write, Holden, I want you to keep my glove with all my poems because I know you will take care of it, and I hope that one day I will be old enough to ride a bike with you and Bobby.