Sad and Familiar

It's a sad story, but it's one that I've written about too many times before. More times than I've written about law school, the supposed theme of this blog anyway. But it's been a while since I've shared this kind of story, and a long time has passed since I've taken the time to reflect and write about what I feel.

A failed relationship. This time, it took me more than a year for us to finally call it quits. And as I said, it's a sad story, and it doesn't make much sense, but the long and short of it is that it's over.

I should be comfortable writing this story. I am, after all, familiar with how it goes.

But I am not. My failed relationships say more about me than about them. I can keep convincing my own ghosts that there was, in one way or another, always something wrong with them.

But it's me. It's all me, isn't it?

Before the semester starts

Year III. Sem II. That's where I will be a few days from now. And that's how long this blog has lasted. I know I haven't been the most consistent, OC, and gramatically correct law student-blogger out there, and I have mentioned absolutely nothing on my law school experiences when I should have. But I have to give myself a pat on the back--this has been thus far my longest running blog that I haven't deleted, including the ones with my (real) name on it.

The reason for my relative lack of blog posts is not that things have gone by so fast. They have not! I can't remember ever going through a long-drawn, gruesome, torturous ordeal worse than law school. Some people hate it, very few love it, but I think everyone who's gone through--and is going through--law school can agree that it is anything but easy.

I can't describe it, really. The experience is one for the books, but I can't quite describe it fully without potentially exaggerating or understating exactly how it is. But what I know is, coming in, I didn't really have any idea what to expect. And when I had an inkling of what it's gonna be like for the first few weeks I was in it, I put myself under the insane belief that I could skate through with digests, bar tips, and other shortcuts. Thankfully, I learned early on that, as in most obstacles in life, there really were no shortcuts. You just have to go through with it. Of course there's always the option of joining a fraternity or asking a friend to help you out in the middle of a bloody recitation, but when it comes right down to it, you have to beat yourself at your own game.

I sound freakishly sentimental when I'm not even through with it yet! I guess what I want to point out is that I've come to my full senses, five semesters too late, and I'm ready to finally bring it.

I mean, I should be. There's nothing more I want right now than to finish law school, get my law degree, and find out what the future holds for me. I don't really have a clear picture in mind as to what I want to do, which is why I admire my boyfriend. He had everything figured out during med school, knowing what specialization he wanted to take and where he wanted to go. And now that he's finally a doctor in residency, he's making it happen. And it's happening right before my eyes!

I guess that's the kind of realization you have during law/med school, and dammit, it's the realization I want to have while I am still in it!  More than anything, really, I'm just happy that my perspective has changed.

I will get to the finish line, and I will get there before others do.

You Saved Me.

The plain truth is that you saved me.

The past five months could have very well turned out to be a disaster. I could’ve been cursing you in my mind right now. I could’ve been listening to Taylor Swift’s fantastically heartbreaking songs right now to relate with them, not to appreciate them. I could be alone. 

But strangely, quite amusingly, I’m not. Instead I remember your scent when you’re not even physically here, and the way you look as you sleep and I try not to wake you but wake you at the same time. And instead I think—five months, and you’re here. And I’m happy.

We’re building castles together, building dreams that are worth their weight in reality in my mind. I am starting to believe that you might be the one… No, wait. I actually do believe that you’re the one.

It’s a scary feeling, free-falling. You know he’s probably there to catch you, you know that it’s perfectly fine and safe. But you’ve fallen before, and where did that leave you? In the past you’d always believed the love you were living was right, but it always turned out wrong. What difference does this one more “try” make?

And then you start to count the ways how.

Because we could be lying on bed all day. We could be fighting all night. We could be having round after round of Korean lunch. We could be anywhere, whenever. And it would not even matter, because you’re here, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I wouldn’t trade the feeling of being with this someone for anything in this world. 

I’m scared. I’m really scared.

But fuck it, I’ve never been this happy.