“Sorry, I’ll try to be nicer next time. It’s just… I think I’m getting old,” she said in almost a hushed tone, like it was some sort of state secret that she wasn’t supposed to share.

I snorted slightly. “What do you mean? You’re twenty-two freaking years old.”

She sighed, “Am I? ’Cause I think med school has aged me about forty years! Why did I think it would be a great idea to do this?”

“Because you’re an overachiever,” I reminded her. I paused with a group of strangers, all staring at a no-walking light, waiting for it to change.

“Oh, right. That. I’ve just always been a get-up-and-go type of person, and nothing—not even four finals in a single day—seemed to get me down. But this? This is brutal.”

I could hear the fatigue in her voice, even from miles away. Where there had once been bounce and optimism in every word, there was skepticism and doubt. This was the girl who’d aced every class in her major and gotten accepted to some of the top medical schools in the nation. And now, she wasn’t sure she could go on.

“Do you love it?” I asked, crossing the street, as the morning sun winked at me from between the few scattered trees.

“What?”

“You said, it’s brutal, and you’re tired, but you never once said you hated it. So, I’m asking, do you love it—what you’re learning and discovering? The idea that, someday, you’ll be able to use these skills to help others? Do you love it?” I repeated, waiting for a reply.

“Yes,” she confessed. “Every single minute.”

“Then, there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll succeed. You always knew it would be hard. You’ve just never faced something this challenging before, and the fact that you want it so bad makes it even more daunting. But you’ll get through it, and when you do, I’ll be in the first row to cheer you on as you’re handed that diploma.”

“You should really consider a career in motivational speaking,” she said, her spirits sounding a bit lighter.

I could hear her munching on something. Probably granola—her breakfast food of choice.

“Nah,” I replied, shaking my head. “Not unless I could give my speeches in a fancy old building or a museum with cool historical artifacts.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I meant to call you the other day and ask, how’s the job hunt going?”

I took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn’t be pleased with the answer.

Melissa was a go-for-your-dreams type of person. That explained why she was busting her ass at the ripe age of twenty-two in medical school while I was…