Dear Cancer,

I think it's time we be honest with each other. This on again-off again relationship over the past year is not a healthy thing. Late last year, we broke things off, and I really thought that you were never coming back into my life. I realize now just how much you must have missed me, but I've moved on. I have plans to get on with my life: a job, new friends, maybe even a new apartment. The truth is, other things have become more important to me. But then you come roaring back in, missing me something awful, moving all your stuff back in like you own the place.

I realize that we've been through a lot together. We've had some great times, and some painful times. But frankly, the good times we had together, they were mostly aberrations, when you weren't acting yourself. I really don't care for your typical demeanor, nagging, and constant demands on my attention.

There was a time when I thought that you and I were meant for each other. We had a lot in common, at least I thought. We were so close. We shared the same food. Even shared cloths most of the time. But this is so superficial.

I'm willing to give you another chance, but there's a condition that you must agree to: therapy – every other Thursday. It won't be pleasant. There's a lot of things we have to work through. Please, take me at my word, it will be for the best – for me at least. And when our course of therapy is over, I will drink to your death! Please don't take this the wrong way.

Yours truly, for now,

Adam