My older brothers just got out of the hospital after spending the whole afternoon here watching me. I can't really do much because I sleep most of the day and only wake up to drink a little water every now and then. It exhausts me just to lift my head from the pillow and talk to my visitors, but I still enjoy their company. I'm semi-conscious most of the time, so I can see who's there, but I can't find the strength to speak. I don't really like to eat because I have trouble swallowing my food. Doctors are giving me this new type of treatment called intravenous therapy, where they hook me up with a needle and a bag of fluid that supplies my nutrients. It's rather expensive, I've heard, compared to normal treatment. This may not all sound so great to me, but the doctors say I'll be able to leave soon in a few days, so I'm looking forward to that. In the meantime, they just want me to rest and see more visitors because it improves my mood. My older brothers began to learn more about me during my time here; they come to visit us quite often, so I'm not alone. Before, they rarely paid attention to me or let me into their lives. I suspect there are several reasons for this, including the age difference between the three of us; one of them is two years older, but he's still doing his own thing with friends, so I don't get much chance to play with him, and the other is much older . The oldest talked to me a lot when I was younger, but after he came back from the war, he spent many days lying in bed staring at the ceiling. But I still really like him because we sometimes think alike and we both really enjoy writing. He is more interested... 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 see me one more time because I love it when they read Emily Dickinson to me. I hope 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 every situation, as Dickinson once said: "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all. For DB, my love for you is eternal and “love is prior to life, subsequent to death, initial of creation and representative of breath”. As this might be the last thing I write, Holden, I want you to keep my glove with all my poems because I know you will take good care of it, and I hope one day I will be old enough to do cycling with you. and Bobby.