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— Many people would feel that I am too young and immature to be taking on the responsibility of caring for another. To these people, I send a hearty, enthusiastic "fuck you." My mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis when I was still a kid, and I've always helped her with any problems the ms might have given her. And so, having had experience with what society calls "a disabled person," I know I am capable of helping Allan. More than that - of looking past the "disability" and seeing the living, breathing, feeling, thinking human being the disease masks. I pray for him. That's all I can do.

I look back to the first weeks I knew him - defiant, charming, healthy. It makes me very content to think that, after all of this hell, he could be that way again. That our "big plans" for the future may be delayed but could eventually come through. These are the thoughts that keep me alive.

I won't lie. I won't say that this relationship can't be depressing, that I never let the sadness get to me, that I never get pissed off or fed up. It hurts a lot. Hope and determination are the only things left. Hope for our future, hope for happier times. Determination for making his life - and mine - worth it all. Uscire da il regno di dolore, Allan. Io amare per vi.

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