Thursday, October 31, 2013

First Semester in Medical School

So I've been told writing can help in sorting out your thoughts. Well, let's give it a shot, seeing as most (perhaps all) of my posts are about an unnamed male I have a huge admiration for. 

I'm currently in my first year of medical school. Instead of pursuing a career in research, as what most people thought I would do, I thought that getting an MD first would be the better option. After several talks with my mother before graduation, and several more after that, I finally went through with the idea and was very much excited for the first day. 

"Finally went through the idea"? What does that mean? Well, ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to be a doctor. Come college, I still did. Unfortunately, things didn't go according to plan and I had to rethink about my chosen profession. As I went through my thesis, I grew to love what I was doing. I enjoyed it. I got to go places, meet new people... It was basically off-routine. Every day was an adventure! Now that I grew to love it, medicine took a backseat in my options. 

When I informed my parents about my change in career choice, my mother wasn't all too happy about it. The talks consisted of her persuading me and me learning to love my first love again. Opportunities came flying left and right from the other side, and me, still undecided, kept them there for a while longer. Longer than what a person who's already decided to enter medicine would have. I couldn't see why she wanted me to. I don't know if I was being selfish or she was. When I finally got some to think about it on my own, I got her figured out. 

So off to medical school!

Choosing medicine would mean giving up a lot of things. I would have to give up my spot in Manila: away from what I got myself accustomed to for the past four years. Adjusting to the life I had before college is a challenge. I had to make new friends, get used to the culture here, and deal with the teaching style being offered at school. There are too many things to adjust to and I think my parents don't see that. It's suffocating. Most of the time, I just want to crawl under a rock. School, I have no problem with. It's the other factors that are distracting me. I was close to cutting off all ties with college friends but my mom told me not to. At times I regret not doing it, and there are times I'm thankful I didn't go through with it.

I don't think I would have made it this far if I didn't have someone to speak with. I do believe if they weren't around, I would have hardened. I was close to extinguishing. I wanted to go back, give up, just LEAVE. But I was told to be patient. I am being patient. I have limits. I am already sick and tired of caring. Yet for some reason I still do. It's annoying.

Well, I guess there's no changing things anymore. I'm here, they're there. I just have to deal with what life throws at me. There's no other choice but to move forward.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Thoughts

Loving a working man is hard. You're not sure if he's going to call you or visit you. You're not sure if he sees you as his equal or just a child. You're not sure what you are to him: a friend or a source of entertainment to spice up his routine of a life. And in spite of all these doubts you still stick around because he makes you feel better and safe, something your past lovers cannot make you feel. 

And you can't tell him how much you care about him. Fearing that it would break what little bond keeps you two together, or worse, he'll dismiss it as child's play. He can never understand how an innocent heart can fall in love.