I want to say I've changed. I want to say I'm a different person. But my soul hasn't aged a day. And my heart is as big as ever. I'm working so hard, harder than I ever have, and every day I thank God for the strength.
This is what I do: I endure.
I want so much from this world, but I'm coming to terms with whatever reality this is I lead. I'm making a list of things I want to do differently when I'm older, when I'm a wife, when I'm a mother. I endure today by dreaming of tomorrow, the weekend, the coming years. I'm going to med school. I'm going to med school. I'm going to med school. If I say it enough, will I convince myself? I am so so afraid, I can't sleep at night. I am so so afraid, I can't bear to admit it. My thoughts are disjointed. I am alone.
Sometimes the world is in color. Sometimes it gets drenched in secret thoughts I can't display. Sometimes I can't breathe.
I look to the sky for answers. I look up when I feel down, when my insides have been completely torn and the air in my lungs has exasperated. What do I see, you ask? An imaginary rainbow, proof of the relentless faith in myself, in us. Next year this time, things will be different. You and I will have changed. Tears, love, agony, and one last chance at a dream. At redemption.
originally written June 13, 2010