Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. Stephenie Meyer owns it all.
A/N: This story has a few darker themes and is not suitable for younger readers. If you’re uncomfortable with this, then this story might not be for you.
A few years ago, Bella went through a traumatic experience. She hits rock bottom when she meets her psychiatrist Dr. Cullen. After they spend a night together, Bella wakes up, remembering...nothing. Out of thin air, her cheating ex-boyfriend reveals a dark truth about Bella’s one night stand. She is forced to make a few tough decisions, which causes the entire Cullen family to turn against her.
I’m not crazy.
I parked my car carefully and took a deep breath. If it weren’t for Leah, my very dear friend, I wouldn’t even be here. I was certain that I didn’t belong here.
Because I’m not crazy up there.
That’s what I kept telling myself.
The hospital itself wasn’t so very mocking, but it was the fourteenth flour where I was heading that was giving me a hard time. On the fourteenth flour awaited a psychologist for me. I considered leaving and pretending I never made an appointment on this dreaded December the second. I had to cancel work for this! I always worked on Fridays, especially in the mornings. Mike promised me that he was okay with this, with me having an appointment with a psychologist. That was the kind of guy Mike was, always kind and considerate. He was a good friend of mine, but we weren’t that close. Still, when he asked bewildered why I needed the morning off, I found myself telling him the truth. He didn’t judge. He didn’t even look at me as if I was crazy. He only smiled, offered me to entire day off and wished me luck. I made sure to tell him I would arrive at work as soon as possible. I wasn’t sure what this morning would be like, but I did know that as soon as it was over, I needed distraction and the best place would be at work.
I remained in my car and stared at the enormous hospital building. I didn’t want to go inside the hospital.
Beside me, another car parked. I only looked, because the car was a flashy, black sports car. Honestly, it was like the blinding sun that people automatically look at for a second, only to get blinded and hurt in the eye.
I searched for my phone in my bag, only to see a text from Leah.
- Don’t you dare! Yes, I know what you’re thinking! Go to the appointment.
She was right about one thing. I was thinking about leaving and not going to the appointment.
My phone slipped and fell somewhere beneath the passenger’s seat so I had to lean down and grope around to find it. It was too dark to see, so I was searching blind and touching nearly all spots on the ground, until I finally touched the edge of my phone and took it in my hand. I leaned up again and glanced at the screen. There were no cracks, luckily. This wasn’t the best time to break my phone. I couldn’t afford a new one. I could barely afford this car, but no way would I sell it. It was a gift from my dad, the last one he ever bought me.
My eyes went up as I saw a man in a neat, dark grey suit with a white blouse and black tie walk quickly past my car toward the hospital. I was certain he was the owner of the car. Someone with that car sure could afford a suit as well as the one that he wore. He was handsome, especially his good hair and confidence. He had a walk that told the world he knew that people were looking at him.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who noticed this.
He walked past my car and before he’d even taken a few steps away from his car, a tall redhead stepped right in front of him to force him to stand still. She wasn’t quick to hesitate in her actions. Her mouth was moving, but most of her body language was doing the work. She leaned forward toward him with a small, inviting smile. He scowled, but only for a moment.
They kissed. That easily. Perhaps she was his girlfriend.
He was the first to pull back. I noticed his mouth moving and his hand waving to the hospital. Then he started walking, but not before the woman managed to tell him something that made him take out his phone, type something, then put it back in his pocket.
She made the sign of an old phone with her thumb and pinkie outstretched, while the other three fingers were bent and placed against the side of her face. I wasn’t good at reading lips, but I thought I made out that she said to call him tonight. And I knew from the look on his face that he was considering it.
They split and I wondered how easy it was for some people to hook up like that, while for me it was like going through a difficult book in a language you weren’t fluent in.
I’m not crazy.
My appointment was set for eight a.m. which meant I still had half an hour before I had to be at the psychiatrist. I detested waiting. On the first floor was a restaurant-café, which I first visited. I’d rather sit there for a while then on that fourteenth floor, where I really didn’t belong.
I walked passed the food line and found a tasty looking chocolate doughnut. I took the plate with the pastry and went to the cashier. She was watching the doughnut, then me, then my stomach. I looked down myself, feeling unconscious for a moment. My belly was nearly non-existing, whereas she had nearly no body fat. Her judging eyes kept watching me and I wondered if anyone trained this girl to greet her customers.
I wasn’t an idiot though. She was insecure. Most girls were.
I placed the plate with doughnut on the counter in front of her and smiled brightly.
“Hi, can I get a small regular coffee, please? And this doughnut.”
“Yeah,” she replied coolly, taking a cup and placing it under the coffee machine.
I was searching for my wallet in my backpack. It wasn’t where I usually put it.
Automatically, I looked up, but the greeting wasn’t directed to me.
That same man I saw at the parking lot stood in the line as well. He was being eyed by a blonde, thirty-something lady.
“Hi,” he responded, though his face was turned away from mine.
I didn’t hear the rest of a conversation, perhaps they spoke very silently, but I noticed something that caused my cheeks to turn red and my head to snap back to the insides of my bag. Her hand had reached his upper leg, then slowly she’d brought it up until she palmed him, between his legs. Was she seriously attempting sex in public? In a restaurant cafeteria? In the morning? At the hospital?
And I was wondering if I’m crazy?
Trying to block that image, I searched the entire bag and by the time the cashier had put the coffee on my tray and told me the price, I looked through my bag one more time.
I saw a few discarded dollars, but it wasn’t enough to pay for both the doughnut and coffee. I placed the three dollars on the counter. I was short on two dollars and fifty cents.
“Some people are so slow,” that same lady’s voice muttered in anger behind me.
I ignored her and looked at the cashier instead.
“Sorry, but I forgot my wallet. How much for just the coffee?”
“I can’t place the doughnut back, can I?” she asked condescendingly. “You’ve already touched it.”
“Yeah, the plate, but not-”
“It’s been touched,” she screeched.
I stared at her, realizing that arguing wouldn’t help me.
“Alright, how much for just the doughnut then?”
“And what about the coffee?” she said instead. “Am I supposed to put the used beans back in the machine, am I now?”
I opened my lips at her ridiculous comment.
“I’m sorry,” I started. “But I forgot my wallet and this is all I have. Can’t you please come up with some solution for me? I’m like, what? A dollar and fifty cents short? This can’t be the first time you’ve encountered with someone who couldn’t pay.”
“True,” she said with tight lips. “I would show them the way to the exit.”
“That’s very unfriendly of you,” I stated.
“Do I look like I care?”
I heard a heavy sigh coming from the woman behind me. Why was she irritated? Just a minute ago, she was attempting sex with the stranger man.
“I am a patient here, so you can hardly kick me out,” I continued.
She watched me up and down, as if she didn’t believe me.
“You’re holding the line,” that same voice from behind me said.
“Trust me,” I said, turning my head, but barely looking at whom was talking to me, “I’m trying to get away from here as soon as I can.”
“You look like you belong in the psych ward. It’s on the fourteenth floor, sweetheart.”
The word to me was like poison.
My hand formed into a fist and I nearly struck her. I swear, I would have, if it wasn’t for someone’s hand engulfing my fist. My eyes involuntarily went up to the man in the suit. Suddenly I saw very much grey. Mr. Grey.
Until I noticed his eyes. Two emeralds, shamelessly gazing at me.
I was staring back.
When did the room get so hot?
“Easy,” he muttered with the ghost of a smile.
I tensed up when I realized what he now knew; I’d been about to get violent.
With a quick jerk, I freed my hand and stepped back, ashamed. No, I was mortified. I breathed heavily, but tried to keep it at a low tone. Had I really been about to strike that woman?
I’m not crazy.
“How would you know it’s on the fourteenth floor?” he asked, glancing back to the woman, directing his words to her.
I wagered a look in her direction, afraid she would call me for my moment of insanity. But strangely, she didn’t. She must not have seen what Mr. Grey did. What a great convenience.
With an angry sigh, the woman stomped off angrily.
I never saw where the ten-dollar bill between his fingers came from. All I saw was his hand extended beside me, holding the bill out to the cashier.
“Add a coffee and a chocolate cookie to her list,” he said, shifting his eyes to the cashier beside me. “And keep the change.”
He said the last bit in a tone that also mentioned that she should be ashamed of herself. Before I could even object, he took my tray as well as his and placed them both on a table against the window.
He turned his relaxed body to me. His hands were in his pockets.
“Do you speak?” he asked.
He raised an eyebrow when I blinked.
“But?” he asked, recognizing there was a but.
It was hard to explain to him that I’d seen him on the parking lot, getting kissed and receiving a phone number for a possibly booty call tonight.
On top of that, I’d seen a different girl grab his male member in public, something even more intimate than a kiss.
Not to forget, he had seen what I’d been about to do! I almost hit that woman because of my own personal issues!
I’m not crazy!
Despite that this man was very hot, because of my better judgement, I was sure that was all that he was; only a sexy body. And rich. He had to be if he owned such a car, that suit, paid for girls he didn’t know and didn’t ask back for his change.
“Didn’t your parents at least teach you to say thank you when someone does something nice for you?”
My chest tore apart at the mention of my parents in such ways. How did this stranger dare to make a personal attack on my parents, because my behaviour didn’t suit him? How dared he?
He was, as I suspected, nothing but an external beauty. From the inside I saw nothing but necrotic tissue; dead, rotten, spoiled.
I stepped forward, only to realize he was two heads taller than I. He raised an eyebrow again. I wondered what he was thinking. Could it be he thought I was about to strike him the same way I’d been about to strike that innocent woman?
“You can’t blame the dead for my lack in manners, can you?” I said, my voice less angry and more pained than I wanted it to sound.
His mouth opened to say something as his eyes suddenly spoke a thousand words. An apology was on its way, so I held up my hand.
“Save it, please,” I muttered.
And damn him for blaming my parents for not being polite. I was probably one of the politest people whom existed, saying please and thank you nearly always. And if I ever forgot to say those words, I felt bad afterwards. That’s the kind of person who I was.
“I lost my appetite, but either way... thank you.”
I sighed after emphasizing my gratitude. It sounded wrong and demeaning, but this stranger hit a soft spot.
“I have to go now. Way up to the fourteenth floor.”
I smirked at the steer of his head and quickly walked out of there.
He probably thought I was joking, even though I wasn’t.
I barely killed any time at the restaurant. Once I arrived on the fourteenth floor, I first went to the ladies’ bathroom. I first washed my hands while staring at my reflection in the mirror. This morning, make-up hadn’t been on my mind. I’d only bothered with jeans, brown boots and a bright blue sweater, which was covered with my dark blue winter’s coat.
Maybe there was still time for a little make-up after all. I usually brought my mascara and some black eye pencil with me. I put my backpack on the ground and searched, but just like my wallet, I didn’t have any make-up in it.
What was it with me today? I’d forgotten to bring things with me, then there was that Mr. Grey.
I splashed some cold water on my face to cool down. With a tissue, I dabbed my face dry.
Perhaps I could find a vending machine on this floor that sold coffee.
With my backpack in my hand, I opened the door, but halted when a few yards on the left, I saw him again. His back was turned against me, so thankfully he didn’t notice me. He stood in a similar position as me, only it looked like he was about to enter the man’s bathroom instead of leaving it. The reason why he stood there, was because a third girl in not even fifteen minutes’ time had approached him.
Right before me, I encountered another moment of boy meets girl.
“Better not, darling.”
“We can be really quick,” I heard her say. ”Really quick.”
“Five minutes?” he asked. “Can you come in five minutes?”
“With you, yes, yes!” she said enthusiastically. “I’m close already.”
“I didn’t bring protection.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, shaking her head hard.
Pregnancy’s and STD’s obviously didn’t mind her either. I felt a certain responsibility to tell her about that. Maybe she was a patient here, on this certain floor. People on this floor could need some more advice.
“We’ll go and check for STD’s together,” she said, throwing her arms around him and starting a deep kiss.
With eyes wide and a strange sensation whether not to know if I should laugh of feel disgusted, I stepped back into the bathroom. I didn’t want either of them to see me.
Check for STD’s together? She made it sound like something romantic. What’s wrong with her?
I looked in the mirror and it felt like my reflection in that moment showed me how to feel.
We both laughed and I shook my head, because of how stupid it was of that girl. It was so stupid that it was funny.
After a few minutes, I carefully opened the door, then fully when they were nowhere in sight. I quickly walked in, in case they were having sex inside the male’s bathroom. That wasn’t something I wanted to hear and witness.
When I was following the signs to the waiting room of the psychiatrists, I thought of how Mr. Grey had kissed two different women. Could that be considered as cheating? No, I believed not. It perhaps made you less trustworthy if you ever got in a relationship together, but it wasn’t cheating. None of those girls, as far as I knew, first consulted him if he had a girlfriend or not. They just jumped ahead and kissed him.
I made it to the waiting room and first stepped to the desk. There wasn’t anyone in the line so I stepped forward and gasped when I saw who it was behind the computer.
A bitchy look appeared on Lauren’s face. Lauren was the woman whom Jake, my ex, cheated on with. The last time I saw her and Jake was well over a year ago.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” she sneered.
“I have an appointment at eight,” I muttered, looking away.
She laughed, then looked at the computer.
“Oh, yeah, there you are,” she said as she gazed at the screen. “What’s the matter with you? Have you gone a little crazy?”
I’m. Not. Crazy.
“That’s very unprofessional,” I snapped. “Especially from you. You work here.”
“Only today,” she said arrogantly. “Replacing a sick colleague.”
“How very honourable of you,” I muttered sarcastically. “I just came to say that I arrived, so I’m going to sit in the waiting room now.”
Before I could hear her reply, I went to sit as far away from her.
Lauren was part of Jake now. The boy I used to love. He used to tell me such things as forever just him and I. But I guess that was another one of his lies. He used to tell me that he loved me. He said he couldn’t imagine life without me. And yet behind my back he was spending his time with another girl.
I was left behind on my own.
Why would he have gone through so much trouble lying to one woman, if he’s choosing to have sex with another one. Why would he lie to her, if she never meant that much to him in the first place? What was the thrill in being polygynous?
Jake said he would always be there for me. Then why did I find myself alone at nights? He had fallen out of love with me. But I hadn’t. And I couldn’t. Each time I thought of him, the butterflies deep inside of me would fly around in happiness, causing my breathing to hitch, because the memories were so beautiful to simply forget.
Did it not do him the same thing as it did to me, each time he would think of me? Did I, in fact, ever cross his mind, or had he completely forgotten about me?
One year had passed since the last time we spoke. Twelve whole months had passed, but none of my feelings had changed. They were still there. They still existed. I wished they didn’t, because it was sometimes unbearable to feel so deeply for another person.
My friend Leah told me I needed some serious counselling. She told me to talk to the professionals. They would know what to do with me. As if my feelings were an error.
That’s why I was sitting on an uncomfortable chair right now, staring at the hallway in front of me, where all the time, doctors walked through, calling in a patient. I was ten minutes early, but Mr. Grey had seriously messed up my morning from the moment I arrived at the parking space.
I waited until one of the strangers would call my name. I waited, and waited. A big, simple clock hung on the wall at my left, ticking too loudly for my liking. It was a constant reminder that I was waiting for the psychiatrist. When the long pointer of the clock reached the bottom, I got off my chair and went to Lauren. Her face was hidden from me because she had her head bent over a form.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
A pen was in her hand, but she wasn’t writing. I cleared my throat, but she still didn’t look up. I grew desperate and frustrated to stand before a person who instead of kindly asking me to wait, chose instead to ignore me.
"I’m sorry,” I said with a raised voice. “But I’m still waiting for my appointment. It should have started at eight o’clock.”
“Dr. Cullen has more patients, you know?” she snapped. “I suggest you wait quietly, until it’s your turn.”
My hands formed into balls as I really wasn’t up for such a confrontation.
“What is wrong with you?” I snapped. “Because first, telling me condescendingly that I should wait until it’s my turn, because the doctor has more patients, is downright wrong.”
How about she realized that us patients made appointments, so that we’re not forced to wait for long amounts of time. We’ve got jobs, plans we need to cancel for the appointments. Also, after the appointments we have places to be, and if we’re forced to wait nearly half an hour or more, we’re yet again forced to postpone our plans because Dr. Cullen couldn’t make his appointment on time!
“If you don’t calm down, I’m going to call security,” she said angrily.
“What makes you think I’m not calm?” I snapped. “I’m waiting here for forever and you can’t simply tell me if the wait will be much longer or not. It’s half past eight! I’m probably his first patient. He could at least have the audacity to mention he’s late because of traffic jam or whatever!”
“That’s it,” she said, reaching for her phone and putting it against her ear. “I’m calling security.”
“And second, because saving the juiciest bit for last is more fun, right?” I nearly yelled. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Why would you date a man that’s already taken? Is it really that much of a thrill to go after the forbidden? Because cheating on someone is never okay. It’s lying to someone in the highest form of cruelty.”
“Don’t you dare and blame me for your mistakes,” she snapped, standing up and showing off her beautiful slender, tall frame.
I took a step back as she mentioned my mistakes. Was something wrong with me?
Am I crazy?
I turned on my heels and followed the signs that showed me where the stairs were. I didn’t feel the need right now to get inside a filled elevator that moved way too slowly. As I ran down the stairs, flight after flight, having lost count long ago, something insane happened.
My eyes were fixated on the stairs, so I bumped into someone’s soft, warm embrace. Quickly and awkwardly I pulled back and brought my eyes to the victim.
Victim, my ass.
He seemed to be haunting me today, because the person I bumped into was Mr. Grey. Only now he was Mr. White. He’d exchanged his grey coat for a white doctor’s coat.
I was feeling as if a little Lord of the Rings was coming my way, but quickly shook it off when my eyes saw two words. I read on the badge something that made me freeze.
He was a doctor. Of this hospital. In the fourteenth floor. And he wasn’t just any doctor. He was the one whom let me waiting for half an hour, probably because he’d been getting some sex from either a patient on this floor.
I was so enraged and upset. It turned both my hands into fists.
My eyes went up and apparently his were already observing me closely. He must’ve seen my eyes on his badge and my hands form fists. There was a slight scowl that framed his face.
Luckily, I was saved. I’d almost given this... this... arrogant man whore my problems.
As I’d left Lauren without a word, I started a walk.
“What’s the rush?” he asked, forcing me to stop with his body.
“I’m in the wrong hospital,” I snapped with venom.
His lips went up in a strange smile, probably because nobody ever said such a thing in combination with anger.
“How did that happen?” he asked.
“I’m in a rush, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Unfortunately, that plan failed as I was held back with his hand on my upper arm. I looked at his hand in distaste.
“Before you go, can I have your number?”
“No, of course not,” I exclaimed, pulling hard on my arm.
He watched me with care, almost as if he was trying to read me.
“Let me go,” I said with finality.
He never budged.
“Only if you give me your number,” he said with a same finality in his voice.
Did he honestly think I was attracted to him? He was demanding my number and blackmailing me. I let out a hard sigh.
“Alright,” I said. “Give me your phone.”
Finally, he released me. I had to admit he looked surprised at my quick change of my mind. He gave me the newest iPhone with raised eyebrows, obviously wondering why I was being snappy, yet complying.
I punched in Jake’s number, which I knew by heart. I hoped he hadn’t changed it. Next I typed Lauren in the name box and wondered if he would text or call Jake’s number and say Lauren’s name. That would give Jake a taste of his own medicine.
I doubted any of that would happen. Many Mr. Grey look-a-like men had asked for my number and none of them ever called me. They only wanted to know if they could score me. And once I gave my number, they knew they had me.
He took back his phone and stared at the screen.
"Lauren,” he said slowly. “I’m-”
“I don’t care about your name. Goodbye.”
He blinked and shook his head.
“Are you always this angry?” he asked.
“I have to go.”
"Right,” he said, stepping closer to me.
His body... it was too close to mine now.
“Because you’re at the wrong hospital. Which I’m quite sure is a lie. Plus, you’re on the fourteenth floor.”
I felt a wave of anger, the same wave I felt when Lauren asked me why I was here.
“So? What’s wrong with this floor?” I asked him harshly. “Just because people might need a psychiatrist doesn’t mean they’re beneath you.”
“I know that,” he said quietly, for the first time showing a more gentler side. “But I’m concerned. In the cafeteria, you mentioned going to this floor. Now you’re running away from it. Did something happen? Didn’t your appointment go well?”
I flinched away from him, though my body was doing strange things in his presence.
“I’m not running away. And if you’re so concerned, why are you flirting with me?”
A smile which he tried to suppress caused his features to become more handsome by ten thousand-fold.
“I know guys like you,” I continued with sharp hatred. “They ask for a girl’s number. But they never call. It’s just a game for you.”
“I’m not playing games.”
I thought of that girl who was flirting with him and I thought of how he flirted back. I had an appointment with this doctor but during our appointment, he wasn’t in his room to receive me. Instead, he was having sex. And his next patient was waiting now as well. Simply because he wasn’t there for her. He was in this hallway with me.
“In fact, you are,” I said. “For the simple fact that you are standing here right now talking to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I won’t even waste my time on explaining it to you.”
I was already taking steps away from him.
“You couldn’t be harsher if you wanted to,” he said with tight lips.
Obviously, he didn’t know me that well. I was glad that he was fed up with me.
“Trying to come up with a smart comeback, sweetheart?”
My face fell. No, he wasn’t fed up with me. He was still playing with me, provoking me. I stepped forward with rage but I couldn’t use violence. Some force stopped me.
“Go ahead,” he said with narrowed eyes. “I dare you. Don’t think I forgot about what happened downstairs.”
And obviously he couldn’t wait to remind me, as if I’d forgotten about that.
I thought of Lauren, Jake, the cashier and the woman who groped Mr. Grey.
“You’re just as bad as the rest of them,” I said, even though he didn’t know whom I meant. “Find out someone’s weakness, then use it against them. Acting all noble and fancy, paying for my stuff. But you’re just a pathetic and unprofessional doctor. Trying to get in my pants. You might have my number now. But you couldn’t gain my interest, not even if you were a millionaire.”
“Good to know,” he said curtly, but his voice wasn’t as strong as before.
That was my cue to leave. Something in his eyes was stopping me. Was it possible that I hurt him?
“You should go and see your patients now, Dr. Cullen. Don’t let any of them wait for any longer than they already have.”
I’d seen more than enough of his rotten behaviour as a person, but who was I to say whether he was a good or bad psychiatrist? Besides, that was all the explanation I was going to give him as to why I thought he was playing games. And of course, why I was so angry with him. While he spent his time elsewhere, his patients were waiting.
That wasn’t right.
I ran down the rest of the flight of stairs and walked out of the hospital, finally breathing in fresh air. I was still trying to calm myself down as I noticed a hospital plastic bag hanging over my side-view mirror. I picked it up and hoped somebody wasn’t paying an awful prank with me. I opened the back very carefully on a distance, expecting dog poo or something equally bad.
Instead I found my chocolate doughnut folded into a napkin and a note. I looked to the side, at his car which was still parked beside mine. Then I brought my eyes to the note.
Sorry for the way I spoke to you.
An innocent joke turned tasteless.
Sorry for offending you.
I hope your appetite returned.
My lips pursed, remembering my previous words: I don’t care about your name.
His name was Edward. And after I left the cafeteria, he must’ve written this note, taken my doughnut and brought it to my car. Then he went back to the hospital and I caught him with that woman...
My eyes snapped to his car again as if he stood there, but he didn’t. I thought of how I saw him when I arrived here, so I knew which car was his. But how did he know which car was mine? Did he notice me as well? But when? He was in such a rush this morning. He couldn’t have seen me, but I couldn’t think of another explanation.
I reread the note and felt an awful lot of guilt flood inside me. Perhaps this guy was rich and well-wanted among the women. His attempt to buy me stuff and ask my number were not flattering to me. But the doughnut I so badly wanted, placed neatly in a napkin and inside this bag, along with the handwritten apology, followed by placing it on my car - as he somehow knew this car was mine - for whatever reason he thought fit, was very kind.
It didn’t matter much though. He was still the doctor who left me waiting for his own egocentric reasons.
When I arrived in my single room apartment, I changed into thick, comfortable clothes and dropped on the couch in exhaustion. I called Mike and asked him if he would mind it much if I took the entire day off after all. I was lucky that he was friendly enough to accept my question.
As the hours passed, I wasn’t sure what to do. Despite my frustrations over Mr. Grey, Jake was everywhere inside my head.
I decided to look him up on Facebook. It was a weak thing to do, but I had to see if he had made one. He never liked social networks. He never made a Facebook. Each month after the break up I tried to find him, see if maybe he made an account.
It had been quite a few months since my last search. It was December now and the last time I tried was in September. It was the day when the university I’d applied to sent me a thin envelope. It said that I’d been on the wait list since June, but unfortunately had no space for me. They wished me luck in my further career.
Last September when I saw the rejection letter from the last university that had placed me on the waiting list was even more painful compared to the breakup between Jake and me. Not that I like to complain one event to another, but those were two main things in my life. My boyfriend and a career in medicine.
I gasped as I saw a tiny, tiny picture of Jake in the searching bar after I typed his name. I quickly clicked on his profile, but he had put the privacy settings on just friends.
I also saw her. His new girlfriend. She was clinging on to him as if she had only just seen him. She clung unto him as if she was afraid of losing him. I knew, because that was the way I’d clung unto him so many times. I wanted to so badly send him a message through the messenger. I just wanted to ask him if he’s alright. But maybe he’d think that’s stupid, once he saw the message. And worse of all, he’d only hurt me more if he chose to ignore my message and I would be left here, waiting in vain.
With tears in my eyes, I went to YouTube and I studied instead with online material. It was what gave me strength, so that’s what I’d keep continue doing. It was the right thing to do.
I got wait listed and then rejected by the university I wanted to study at. That caused my dream to be crushed into smithereens. I took a job, and decided to take the year off. However, only after a small two months, last November, I found myself again. That feeling came back to me, the one that always guided me toward my dreams. Many times, I was let down, but I still had some strength left to go for it one more time.
Since November I was practicing, studying, making notices and writing small pieces of information on post-it notes, so I could stick them to walls and read them over while I was cooking, walking around the room or tossing around in bed.
Nobody knew about my plan. I was afraid to tell them. I was afraid they’d laugh at me for trying it again. The previous years I’d failed repeatedly. If I told my friends about this, I would feel a certain pressure that I would have to succeed. If I kept it the way it was now, I felt no pressure to do it for other people.
I was doing this all for myself and myself only.
Around three o’clock at night, my eyes were no longer able to stay open. I crawled to bed and instant darkness overtook me. I was aware that staying up until late, resulting in little sleep, wasn’t a healthy thing to do, but I couldn’t remember the last time I slept a decent good night’s sleep. It must’ve been in an era when my parents were both still alive.
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