Intermission IV
I am no longer in love.
It’s not that I don’t want to be in love; it’s that I no longer have the time for the word or concept. I am an intern now, and I am involved in a new routine that requires me to have little to no contact with my friends or meet new people because I am either questioning every choice I have made in life on mornings when I am headed to work or tired and just looking for somewhere to lay my head on my way back from work.
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My friends say this is a good thing, while my brain is trying to plot an escape and is telling me What is the worst that could happen?’’
I am worried, worried that I might be wasting an opportunity that might not come back around while I live in a routine that I derive no joy from.
I am scared, scared it may all be for show.
I am hopeful, hopeful that it will all work out, and I will be better for it.
So I will hold on to my hope and persevere.
