My week feels like a wave slowly rolling over me. I’m keeping just ahead of the breaking point, but I never fully escape. Concerns over patients. Worries that people I would call friends may be lying directly to my face. Fears, fears, and more fears of everyday life, growing older, caring, and loving. It has me so tired now, that I could barely keep awake through dinner, but yet I’m resisting going to bed, like a small child. And just like a child, I retreat in my head to where I wish to be. To where I always wish I was.