I have come to the conclusion that I am an emotional masochist. Right now I am reading a Castle fanfiction that... is a little too close to home.In this fanfiction Castle has been married to Beckett for three years when they find out he's got cancer, starting in his neck. The story is about how they handle the disease as a family. It's just that when I read it I can't help but cry. It make's me think of my dad and his own struggle with and eventually death from cancer. I remember feeling like my world was falling out from under me. I remember the pain and the anguish. I remember going with him to the hospital for his treatments and scans. I remember what those treatments did to him. My dad used to be a big, robust man, full of life. But as time went on he withered away before our eyes. He got skinnier and skinnier, and weaker and weaker. He couldn't eat because either his mouth and throat hurt to much or he couldn't keep it down. Or he just had no appetite, like at the end. At the end I couldn't hardly recognize him. He was so thin, so weak. He couldn't talk, he couldn't hardly move. He just didn't seem like my dad anymore. It's like he died long before he was actually dead. And when I read this story, I mean, well, not all of it is the same, some of it is. The fears, the uncertainty, the cheap coffee, the hospital food. I read this story and I just... I remember. I don't know why I keep reading, I shouldn't, I should stop, but I don't. I keep reading and I cry from the memories it induces. Like I said I'm an emotional masochist.