2015.

I look around and can’t believe I am smack dab in the year 2015.

I graduate this year. Next week I will fly back to Mexico, return to campus and kick off the last of 10 semesters of medical school. Come June I will (knock on wood) be dancing the night away in a fancy hall for my graduation party. I will look smashing in some amazing, fabulous formal gown, not a hair out of place, expertly applied war paint (read: make up) and I will celebrate. And then, if I am really lucky, in August I will complete the last the last installment of my Masters in psychotherapy and I can celebrate again. Continue reading

Coco today.

I read back upon the last post with a bit of disbelief. The story with Alex was left without a conclusion, to be sure. But frankly, I don’t wish to stroll down memory lane. I’m in such a different place right now, I recoil at the thought of falling back in any way shape or form.

I’m currently in the middle of my ninth semester (of ten) of medical school. Incredibly I haven’t really suffered what’s considered to be one of the roughest semesters of the program. I’m different now; I have changed so much so that anytime I take full stock of me, this me, I have to grin in amazement. This a great version of me. Continue reading

the talk.

The two weeks that followed the message I sent Alex were difficult to say the least. I spent my days alternating between hopeful and feeling hopeless. He did eventually reply to my text, adeptly glossing over the depth of my words.

We saw each other the week after Spring Break. It was a short amount of time, as he was heading to his sister’s birthday party afterward. That afternoon he shared with me some personal things, regarding his family. I listened carefully, aware that the information he shared was not to be taken lightly.  Continue reading