Round and round

Everything repeats.

And why is it that I never seem to learn?

I thought I did. I thought I learned how to be independent, how to not need anyone, how to not depend on anyone but myself. That's what I learned with my extra years on my own at Northwestern, that's what the kids in South Africa showed me, and that's what I learned throughout the craziness of intern year.

I met a good friend through my residency program. But one day she up and left, with no story to tell. I was confused (particularly by the no story part), but I was proud of myself for not getting too attached, too close, too involved, too anything. I had taught myself that it was better not to care. It was just something that happened during my residency timeline.

This is a terrible way to live, you say. And maybe it is. Maybe it was.

Over the last couple of years, I've forgotten my hurts and the ghosts of mean girls past, and I've started to open myself up again. I've opened myself up to be loved and to be cherished, to become friends and even better friends with some, and I allowed myself to start hoping for bigger better more and then some.

But I keep forgetting that just like Jack and Jill and that insurmountable hill, I'm inevitably bound to come tumbling down with all my hurt following after.

I hate this.

I hate that people let me down. I hate that I hate when people let me down. I hate that I thought I had healed, only to find that the sutures didn't hold. I hate that I am not strong enough on my own right now. I hate that I thought that I thought that I had outgrown this blog, only to realize how small I still am. I hate so much right now, but I guess when it comes down to it, I just hate myself.

And that's why the cycle keeps repeating.