Some Unicorns Stay

Right. I declare that I will know you as Salome in my heart until I am told otherwise by your heart. Or until I write you a sentence in a drunken haste you find scary. Or until you make me soup and fuck it up, because who fucks up soup?
I have something serious to say today. I once had a friend in high school. We played football together and he was a year behind scholastically, but years ahead of me in maturity. He later became my roommate in college and was, and I am sure still is a very good man.
The last time I saw him was at his wedding. I hear he has a son now. I am a better person for having know him and his family.
His family. My friend had a wonderful family. They are very close, supportive and loving. Good people all around. I was 17 when I first met his family and he had a little brother named Mark. Mark was 12 or 13. The first day I met him, he put on a pair of boxing gloves and punched me in the face. Ballsiest fucker alive. For a year or so I couldn't remember his name so I called him Steve. For some reason everyone thought it was funny and even his family called him Steve.
Steve or Mark or however you want to know him grew up, and grew up well. While he was several years younger than me I admire him because he has a knack for living. He's a good kid.
Three years ago Steve was 21. One morning, while I can only assume masturbating, Steve felt something on his balls. He went to the doctor and it was cancer. And not nut cancer. It was a cancer known as Desmoplastic Small Round Cell Tumor. This cancer usually manifests itself in the abdomen, but chose his ball bag. 80% of people diagnosed with this cancer die. They took his balls and began chemo for 8 months. The kid lived. The kid went back to work and got promoted. He moved because of his job and was living his life.
Steve went in for his yearly scan a couple of weeks ago. On December 27th the doctors found the cancer returned and is now in his abdomen.
Steve, my old roommate and the whole family will never read this because they do not know about my blog. I just want the 4 1/2 people who read this to know that there is a kid who has touched my life who is in a world of sorrow and fear. I have no way to help. I pray, I hope and I would offer my life would it do any good.
My grandmother told me that when a loved one dies it's because God needs a new soldier for his Army. I am of the opinion that if Steve dies, God needs a General.