This line- ‘I could love your image until it shattered under the pressure of my expectation.’
You’re scared of change. He might be too. Maybe that’s why you both keep trying to find comfort in the same arms that crushed your hearts. Kissing the lips that parted and voiced the words that made you feel small. Remember when you both hurt each other? Are you trying to heal this time or are you both just waiting for another imperfect moment to break yourselves?
I know you feel the difference. Your heart doesn’t race the same, the butterflies don’t feel the same, it’s a little more stifling. You’re constantly reminding yourself not to feel too much because he might be gone soon. You know the part when he walks out the door again is inevitable. He’s never really yours to keep. Has he ever been?
You’re so addicted to the chaos and emotional uncertainty that you consciously hurt yourself repeatedly. You believe you’ve found beauty amidst the chaos…
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All the tests I was freaking out about last week were successfully completed. Now I have about 3 weeks to study for my Anatomy finals and I just feel meh. Okay, in this moment, I’m terribly lonely. I guess in the stress of the semester, I really didn’t care about hanging out with people because I was only focused on not drowning under all the things I had to do and also because said people were too busy putting me on suicide watch because I looked sad and because I listen to music that you can actually hear the lyrics of. This is turning into a rant, but since none of them actually read my blog I’m not in danger of being a victim of an intervention.
I woke up from my nap a nervous wreck. I miss my weird best friend. I want to watch Twilight and Frozen with him. Yes, when I’m upset I watch Frozen, sue me.
On a less whiny note, I need a job. I don’t only want to be known as a Medical student, I can do other things besides studying. I’m a semi-professional fan girl and a writer. I can honestly have a fangirl corner, like an article in a magazine or something………okay maybe that’s far fetched because I dont like things that people my age like. Wait, I can fangirl over all the Korean dramas and K-pop I watch. Now, if only Dramfever would find me.
I give good advice ( I think) so I could be an agony aunt, which would be perfect, being that I know an awful lot about agony, and I’m an aunt to a few little ones.
I also need to get on writing my Liebster award post, my year in review post and my birthday wishlist post. Still can’t believe all 5 feet and 2 inches of me is going to be 20 in a few days. Ugh.
I’m actually excited, I’m just not excited for all the marriage jokes my relatives will make. I’m also excited to see if I meet ‘someone’ this year.
This is why I write, to get rid of all the pesky emotions. I have to go take a shower, I’ve been a crusty hobo for too long. I genuinely love all the people that actually read this blog.
Peace, love and laughter.
Merry almost Christmas.
When I interviewed for my first job after residency, I was quizzed very pointedly about my religious proclivities. There was a prominent prayer before the meals (interviews took part in two stages and involved several days of activities) asking for God’s direction on whether or not to hire me. At one point, I was asked to say a blessing for everyone. This did not bother me particularly at the time. I just wanted a job.
I was raised in a “Christian” home growing up and had my theology down pat. I felt fairly at home in this kind of environment and knew I could “properly” answer any question they posed. Except for one thing: What my role was as a Christian woman who was working full time as a physician.
Growing up I was taught that as a female I was not as loved by God as much as a…
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Sounds creepy, right? It isn’t at all what it seems like. It’s just a phrase my Histology teacher used to explain free villi in the pregnant uterus. On a lighter note, the semester ends in approximately 7 days. Sadly, I have three tests I need to successfully complete before I can finally rest, but not totally because I have Anatomy finals. Sigh. I do it for the women and children that will be my patients. Have to get ready for my Hungarian test that’s in 6 hours.
Peace, love and Yuletide cheer.
Dear eve teasers, misogynistic hypocrites and distasteful heaps of flesh,
The marks on my arms and the pinch on my ass, the tears in my eyes and the hoarse wails of my mind, will never forget the scars that you left on my body with those leery eyes, fists and foul breath. The insecurity in my eyes and the withdrawal in my walk will not forget to compel my eyes to turn and wish for it to be always be light and never the dark. The pain in my heart will remind me of your twisted advances and my next bleak minutes and my hopelessness will startle my heart to wonder if even the light could be my saviour.
But you’re all laughable pieces of nothing to me and I pity you.
I pity you for the life you tried to steal from me and couldn’t. I pity you for the life you…
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I take you, O Starry-eyed Beloved, to be my naïve wedded husband.
I pledge to love you conditionally, expect more of you than I’ll want to give,
wish you’d take care of yourself when you’re sick, as I do.
I will ask the moon of you and wonder why
you can’t heal the wounds left by my parents.
O clueless beau, this affair is really a commitment to my own happiness;
you do not see this is the most attractive I will ever be.
Be assured I am yet deaf in all this gaiety to the exacting claims of Love
I do not realize just how much It will cost:
my greatest fears, my sacred pride.
Love will become duty and duty complacency.
I will dust off my graying hair…
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