We sat in Dr Miller's office, waiting for him to arrive. We hadn't talked but Lana was holding my hand tightly, squeezing it from time to time, almost desperately. I looked at her as she stared out the window behind the desk. The sun was out today and I tried to see it as a positive sign.

'Lana, Gerard. It's good to see you again, I'm sorry it's not under more fortunate circumstances.' Dr Miller greeted us as he entered, shaking our hands.

Dr Miller was the kind of doctor who liked to cut to the chase and I appreciated it. He sat down, opening Lana's file.

'So...good news. Although your lymphoma is back, it's low grade and limited. It's a good thing we caught it early, so there's no need for a stem cell or bone marrow transplant after all. Our best option is chemotherapy and a treatment with monoclonal antibodies.' he said and although I was already confused, I couldn't help but feel relieved.

'Chemo?' Lana sounded scared.

'I know you don't like the sound of that but it won't be as brutal as last time, Lana. We don't need a high dose and it's only to send the cancer back to remission. Then, we start with the antibodies.' he explained.

'Will I feel sick? Will I have to stay in hospital?' I put my arm around her shoulder to calm her down but it didn't seem to help.

'There are side effects, of course. But they're manageable. You might have to stay overnight for your first treatment but after that, it's outpatient, as long as you have someone to look after you at home.' Dr Miller said and I nodded.

'I'll be there.'

Lana looked at me with her big eyes and I could tell she was scared. More for me than for her which didn't exactly make it easier. I gently rubbed her back until I felt her relax a little.

'What's the outlook?' she then asked, tensing up again.

'Like I said, we caught it early. So the outlook is pretty good.'

'But there is a chance that it could come back...again and again.' she said, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

'There's a chance, yes. There's a chance with almost every type of cancer. But you are young and healthy and given the grade and the fact that it's limited, I'm positive that we can cure it for good this time.'

*

I didn't know whether to believe him or not. But he was a doctor, after all. His job was to tell his patients the harsh truth so he had no reason to lie to me if there was one. Still, my scepticism got the best of me.

'Will I lose my hair again?' I asked as we got up to leave.

'It's possible. But it depends. Just because you lost it the first time doesn't mean you'll lose it again this time.' Dr Miller said.

Actually, although I was worried about the hair loss, it was just one of the things I was concerned about. Chemo had been hell for me the last time and when I had started puking after my first round, I had actually cursed my long hair, with no one to hold it back for me as I hugged the toilet. It was silly to care about it but hair symbolized some normality for me by now. I had enjoyed growing it back, worshipped every inch, not even bothering to see a hairstylist for the first year, just because I couldn't stand the thought of a pair of scissors even coming near my head. But if it would fall out again, there was nothing I could do.

Maybe the idea of going bald again also signified the only aspect of the cancer that I could make sense of. Or maybe it summed up all the pain. I didn't know. But despite the relatively good news, I couldn't help but cry as we left the building. Gerard tried to hug me but I wouldn't let him, telling him that I just wanted to go home, despite his efforts to cheer me up with a walk in the park.

'Hey, hey Lana. It's good news! You have a good chance at being healthy again. And you heard what Dr Miller said, it's a lower dose of chemo this time, maybe it won't make you as sick as it did last time.' he tried to calm me down as I sat down on the couch back at home. I knew what he was saying was true but I was still so terrified. It felt as if this time, all the emotions I hadn't allowed myself to go through the first time I was diagnosed, came crashing down on me at once.

'But I don't wanna lose all my hair again!' I cried.

'Lana...'

'I don't wanna be ugly again.'

'Okay, enough! Who cares about hair?! It'll grow back! And you could never be ugly! Never ever!' I could tell he was getting angry, not at me but at the situation.

'I CARE ABOUT HAIR!' I yelled in between my sobs and he got up, heading to the bedroom.

I didn't follow him at first, assuming he wanted to be alone. That it was getting too much for him. I felt guilty and got up, wiping away my tears and taking a few deep breaths. This wasn't fair. He was doing his best and I was making a fuss over my stupid fucking hair. I found him in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in his hand.

'Gerard, what are you doing?!!!?? Don't!' I gasped, looking at all the black hair that was already clogging up the sink.

'It's just hair! So I'm cutting it off!' he muttered angrily, another strand of hair falling down.

*

At some point we had both calmed down and now Lana was standing behind me, as she attempted to fix the disaster on my head. I would have cut it all off if she hadn't interrupted me and I wouldn't have cared either.

'You're such a dumbass.' she mumbled, running her fingers through my now super short hair.

'It kinda looks hot though.' I replied and she rolled her eyes at me in the mirror. 'Although, I think it would look better blond. Like white blond. What do you say? I'm gonna go and get some bleach and toner.' I got up and she looked at me as if I was completely losing my mind. And maybe I was.

'You have to stop.'

'Stop what?' I asked.

'Acting like this isn't happening. Again.' she replied and now I was the one getting frustrated.

'And you have to stop acting like it's the end of the fucking world. Come on now, Lana. You're going to be fine. We're going to be fine. I love you.' my words seemed to hit home. 'I know it's not something you can just get over. But you gotta let me try HELP you get over it. And you gotta work with me on that. So?' I turned around in my chair to look up at her with a cheeky smile I knew she couldn't resist before wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her down onto my lap. 'You think I'd look hot as a blonde?'

She seemed to hesitate for a moment and I couldn't figure out whether she was going to punch me or kiss me.

'You'd look hot with a fucking pile of shit on your head, you idiot.' she finally said, the hint of a smirk on her lips.

'Rude.' I replied, stealing a kiss from her.

Two hours later, my hair was almost as white as the snow outside. Lana kept staring at me in awe, as if she was trying to figure out if I was the same person or a different guy. I liked it, although it was a drastic change and would take some getting used to but we'd had so much fun, forgetting all about the cancer stuff for a while that I was already fond of the look.

'I would totally rock a Billy Corgan lookalike contest.' I said, ruffling my hair yet another time while checking myself out in the mirror.

'Or a Eminem one.' she giggled and I narrowed my eyes at her. 'Hey, Eminem's hot. Quit hating.'

'But BILLY. DUH.'

I enjoyed making her laugh, feeling happy when I saw her face lightening up. I would do whatever necessary to make her feel better. After all she was Lana. My Lana.

*

Although it was already getting dark outside, we decided to take the walk through Central Park after all. Gerard had borrowed one of my black beanies, looking adorable with his short, white-blond hair sticking out from under it. While his black, shaggy hair had always made him look somewhat dark and mysterious, this new look made him look cute, even more boyish, and brought out the breeziness I knew he had. Even now, even with so much to worry about, he chose not to let it show and I was certain he was doing it for me, not for himself. It made me love him even more.

We stopped at a playground and Gerard cleared the snow off of one of the swings, making me sit down. He then proceeded to push me until I squealed like a little girl which made him laugh so hard he ended up falling down. As I looked at him, cracking up, his giggles and little snorts breaking the peace and quiet of the park at this hour, it dawned on me. He was the one. He always had been. I couldn't help but think of what Greg had said at the cemetery, after visiting my father's grave. How he would walk me down the aisle at my wedding. Back then, I had rolled my eyes, convinced that there would never be a boy I would consider marrying, convinced that whatever I'd had with the only one I had ever loved, was over for good. But he was back in my life now. Back for good. Loving me as much as I loved him. In sickness and health, I thought, smiling to myself. Not that it was an option right now, but maybe, someday. Just looking at him changed something inside me. Now, the possibility of getting married, didn't seem so unlikely anymore.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked me as he brushed off the snow and sat on the swing next to me.

'Nothing.' I lied and he leaned over, kissing my cheek.

'It's okay. Keep it to yourself. I bet I'll find out soon enough.' he grinned, swinging back and forth.

Possibly, I thought, possibly.

We grabbed a spicy Chai Latte from Starbucks on our way back to the apartment. Our apartment. Yes, it wasn't just mine anymore, it was ours. And I liked the sound of that. The only thing that bothered me was the fact that it didn't look like ours, it still looked like mine. We had to change that.

'You should put up some of your artwork.' I suggested as we went through the boxes Mikey had brought from Gerard's old place. 'And, you know, fill the shelves with your books and comics and music. Make yourself at home.'

He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. 'You're gonna regret that.' he giggled, pulling out a box.

'Magic the Gathering?' I took the box from him, opening it. 'Oh my God, let's play! NOW!'

His eyes widened and he ran his hand over his face before burying it in the cushion of the couch.

'I LOVE YOU SO FREAKING MUCH!' he screamed, jumping up and tackling me.

What was cancer anyway?