Mercy 'by' Jodi Picoult

The love of
your life

Asks for your
help to die


What would you do?


Picoult has once again caught me in her web of thorns, and torn slices from my heart. Her words ring so true, so honest, so deep.


"         She did not like being less beautiful than her husband, or being the one who always made an advance.
          She questioned it if might have been different if she were a classic beauty, or if she were sexy. She told herself that she'd lose ten pounds and cut her hair and mold herself into someone irresistible, and then when Cam came grabbing for her she'd simply turn away.
          Maybe she'd find someone else.
          And then she'd laugh at the very thought of letting anyone touch her the way Cameron MacDonald had.         "


"         'Then you're the one.'
          Allie blinked at him. 'The one what?'
          'The one who loves more.' He moved closer to the desk, and the handcuffs tapped against the metal edge as he inadvertently made getures. 'You know it's never fifty-fifty in a marriage. It's always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride.'
          'I'm the one like you,' Jamie said. 'The one who fell first. The one who would do anything to keep it the way it was at the beginning.'         "


"         His teeth began to chatter and his heart had frozen in his chest.
          Allie popped up not two feet away.
          'Jesus Christ,' he exploded. 'Jesus fucking Christ!' He took one long swimming stroke towards her abd crushed her against him, half dragging and half swimming her toward the shore where they could both stand.
          When he set her on her feet, he was still saking. He grabbed her so tightly he could feel the ridges of her ribs against his skin. 'You scared the hell our of me,' he said roughly, shocked at the vehemence of his own reaction and the strength of his need. 'You scared me to death.'
          He held her away from him, touching her forehead, which was ringed with silt; and her hair, still tangled with wet leaves and one of his flies. He tilted her chin up to his face. 'Don't ever do that,' he murmured.
          She wanted to tell him it was all a joke, that she hadn't liked him laughing at her, but Cam was holding her close and staring at her as if he had to memorize her features, as if he had just seen the yawn and chasm of a life that did not include her.
          Jamie MacDonald's words flew into her mind: Seventy-thirty.
          Cam was looking at her, she realized, the way she always looked at him. Fascinated, she touched her hand to his cheek, and felt him shiver. 'I won't,' she promised, and she clenched her fists tight into Cam's sokaing shirt in an effort to hold on to the moment.         "



I haven't fnished it yet. And I don't feel as if I can. Her words, the story, it is striking far to close to home. I just don't know, in which direction I lean in.

Am I thirty? Am I seventy? Sometimes, I feel as if I am the intiate. Sometimes, I feel inadequate.

I called Gill to ask her what she thought. She laughed off my fears, and said we were a fifty-fifty couple. Why does that make me feel sad? Why can't she ever say, she loves me more than I love her?

Why does she always let me 'win', when we play the 'I love you more' 'No, I love you more' 'No, I love you more * Infinity!' 'No, I love you more Infinity * Infinity!' game? Why won't she ever fight to win?

Why does she never try to convince me she loves me? Sometimes she says it. As a good night charm. As a morning call. As a end to a conversation. As a thank you. But... why hasn't she ever just turned to me, pinned me to the bed, looked me deep in the eyes, and told me she loves me?

I know my answers. She's not the romantic type. It never occurs to her. She's too shy. She would start laughing halfway. But are these answers, or the excuses I make for her, to convince myself that she does love me?

I don't want to know my tally.

- Jacqueline