Not Knowing

"What if I don't pass?" I asked to him. I was anxious. Don't get me wrong. That question plays a lot in my mind. It's just that I rarely say it out loud. That what makes me nervous.

And I was there. Patiently waiting for his answer.

"I don't know," he answered. Sincerely.

I don't know what I expected. Somehow, the answer suffice. Cause one thing for sure, I don't need false hope. All those bullshit of "things will still be good" and "you gonna do fine" will make me hurt more. Cause I know that things wouldn't still be good and I'm not gonna be fine.

Failing the year is not gonna make everything stay the way they are. Everything will change. The disappointment of my parents. Slowly changing cliques (cause they are gonna be occupied with clinical years and it's not even their fault!). Having to pay more for the study loan and above all; my pride and dignity. I will be just another medical student who failed.

The one that people will talk about like I'm a study case to be discussed. They'll talk about my history, they try to search for the most 'definite' diagnosis and they'll try to treat me. I'll be a patient. A patient of my own disease. A stupid patient.

And I don't want that. At all. God forbid.

As night passes by, Ameer was asleep and Kama's at the living room studying, now I'm free. Free to cry.

The next thing I know, I was below the desk with my hands wrapping my body as if I'm about to take a lumbar puncture. And it feels like I did. 

I burst painfully in my heart.
I've never cried so much for a very long time. It hurts so much. I can't hold it anymore.

Not knowing.