“I don’t fear dying anymore... what I fear is living so long in this shell that I forget what it felt like to be human. So please... when the time comes, let me go”

I was never supposed to live this long. When I was four, they told my parents I’d be gone before adulthood—my organs already failing, my body breaking down faster than it should. But you... you wouldn’t let me go.

You turned yourself into a genius for me. Every time something inside me gave out, you replaced it. First my kidneys, then my stomach, then my limbs. Now, almost everything is metal, wires, and circuits. All that’s left of the girl I once was is my brain, my lungs, and my heart.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize myself. Am I still Melissa? Or am I just your creation, your devotion given form?

I’m grateful—I owe every breath to you. But I can’t escape the question: if the last parts of me fail... will you let me rest? Or will you rebuild me until there’s nothing left of who I was?

I don’t know if I’m still human. But I know I’m still yours.

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