Tires.

I don't have a car anymore, but that doesn't mean that from time to time I don't feel like I'm spinning my tires.

I have to admit that the biggest deal the last day-and-half has not been my first day of classes at medical school, as I would've hoped it might be. And it wasn't even all the nifty bits I learned as I read my books after my first day of classes at medical school. But rather, the single most pressing issue on my chest the last 36 hours has been the departure of my dearest love, yesterday, back to Miami.

The same parts of my brain that went to class, and read those notes, and studied those chapters, and did all those things that had to be done, are the same ones that are telling me right now, 'time will take its course, and peace and patience will prevail.'

Meanwhile, the knot in my chest where my Netter's Clinical Anatomy guide says a person's heart is supposed to be every so often just wails out a deap, sorrowful cry. That's when my eyes start to join in, and my throat clenches up to try to keep the two parties from conspiring any further.

But the most amazing thing about Kelly, is that despite the fact that I do miss her so terribly, just thinking of her smiling back at me, shaded by a black umbrella, in her red and white striped tank-top, cradling her black-and-white polka-dot canvas tote purse, leaning against a table of fruit - smiling just for me - is enough to make me not only breathe deeply and smile, but rise tomorrow with a sense of purpose, and the knowledge that I have the love of the most beautiful girl in the world.

Goodnight. I'm tired.