Lydia didn't know whether to be offended or attracted; so she opted for silence. She just looked at him as he wiped her eyes and continued.
"I've never met a girl like you. I wish I had more time with you, but if you let me, I will make sure that the rest of your life will be filled with nothing but smiles and love and, and shit Lyd...I just want to be there."
"But why? Why the fuck would you want to deal with this? The medication, the hospitals, the moods and anger, depression and sadness? Since I got the news, I hate being me. There are so many people I want to meet and places I want to see. Being me is a major waste of time. So I can only imagine what being around me must feel like. Think about it, do you want to sit in the hospital a month and a half from now when I'm in surgery. Or a few months after that when I'm suffering in a bed, struggling to maintain life. Fuck your delusions of grandeur and kill your optimism my brother, I AM DYING."
"I heard you the first time, and the second. And just about every time after that. But the way I see it, you should be living every tomorrow like it's going to last two years. That way, when you do go, you'll have lived long enough. I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life..."
"Well it sure sounds like it." Lydia was getting quite annoyed, but she couldn't take her eyes off of him.
"But, I do want you to live while your still here; for your sake, for your mother's sake, your brothers sake, shit for my sake. This downer shit aint you, 'cause contrary to your belief, I see you. I've always seen you. Through grade school till now I see you. I've heard you in class, I've noticed. Not speaking up is a horrible mistake that I'm going to have to live with but I be got damn if I let you live your last six months in the dark."
"Your right, it isn't your place to tell me how to live."
"And I'm not trying to."
"Are you sure?" She wanted to go home, really she did. She was so tired of people telling her how to live. Why couldn't she spend her last few days like she wanted to; alone and in the dark. But he had a point. Your life isn't your own. Your always in the process of living for other people; inspiring and helping. How horrible would her mother feel if she let her daughter die before she was actually dead. Maybe she would do the whole "Carpe Diem" thing. But how would she deal with Daryl? He reached for the soft palms that she pulled away from him around mid conversation. She let him hold them, for now.
"Positive I don't. And I really don't want to offend you because I don't want this to our last time out. I want to take you out as long as your able and willing. Just let me be there for you, at least let me try." Who was she to tell someone what they can and can not do? If he wanted to try and tread the bullshit the was partially drowning in, he can go ahead. She wouldn't mind having him around. Hopefully it wouldn't do more hurt than help, not to her, but to him. She didn't have anything substantial to say. To avoid the cliche, she just held his hand and started to walk. Lydia had a strong feeling that her make up had ran to high-heavens. But when she looked at Daryl as he looked at her, she simply felt beautiful.