I wish I had that relationship with my parents where I can talk to them about anything to my heart’s desire. Unfortunately, I grew up with tough love, “suck it up’s”, and doing good to the world just isn’t good enough. I admit, I don’t know how to talk them most of the time, it’s much harder than talking to patients, whom before stepping into their room, are mere strangers, yet I find comfort in that. But then again, as time goes by, the more they’ve become strangers to me, and I to them.

I don’t find it comforting, knowing that each day I find myself more and more detached. I no longer find comfort in their company.