The last time my sister graduated, I was seriously in love with S. While in the back of my head I suppose I always knew it wasn’t going to work, I had been doing a good job ignoring that particular fact. Naturally, when I got back to Chicago, everything went to hell, and I went into a patented downward spiral.

This is what you get for believing in fairy tales, and trying to fly by wishing.

So four years (!?) have passed, and I am perhaps much more cautious and much more jaded. I have no illusions at this point. But strangely, I am more hopeful. For what, I don’t know. The horizons are pretty damn wide-open, and while I’m starting to get used to the idea of eternal loneliness, there are still a few shattered fragments of my heart that refuse to die.

Dum spiro, spero. There is still hope while I breathe.

I tell you, my life has been divided up in four year blocks for so long, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself after finishing residency. Once again, the trajectory of my life remains to be determined. Am I going to stay in San Diego? Will I finally end up in L.A. once and for all? Will I actually make it back to the Bay Area, even if it’s only for a year or two? Or will I end up somewhere completely unexpected? Chi-town? NYC? Alaska? Hawai’i? New Mexico? Canada? Old Mexico? Buenos Aires? Reykjavik? Taipei? Bangkok? Kathmandu? Who knows?

I can imagine a roulette wheel spinning round and round somewhere. Where do I lay down my chips?