Back to Normalcy.
1157 Words
(Clara)
I didn’t think I would say it out loud, but I was starting to feel… normal again.
Not the fake kind of normal where you force yourself through the day and pretend your thoughts aren’t falling apart in the background. Real normal. The kind that didn’t hurt when you woke up in the morning.
It had been days since I last let my mind drift in that direction. Days since I replayed anything I shouldn’t. And somewhere between lectures, library sessions, and Ethan’s constant insistence that I take breaks, something inside me finally loosened.
I was sitting on the steps outside the faculty building when Ethan dropped down beside me with two bottles of water.
“Hydration,” he said, handing one to me.
I stared at it. “You’re starting to sound like my mother.”
“Your mother is right then,” he replied easily. “You look like someone who survives on stress and caffeine.”
I took the bottle anyway. “That’s basically med school.”
“Exactly,” he said, leaning back on his hands. “Which is why I’m officially declaring war on your burnout.”
I let out a small laugh before I could stop myself. “You can’t declare war on burnout.”
“I just did.”
I shook my head, but I was smiling. It was strange how effortless it was with him. No tension. No overthinking. Just… conversation.
A group of students passed by, laughing loudly about something unrelated, and for once I didn’t feel like I was on the outside of it all.
“I didn’t think I’d survive the first two weeks,” I admitted after a moment.
Ethan glanced at me. “And yet, here you are. Alive. Mostly functional.”
“Barely,” I said.
“That still counts.”
We sat in silence for a bit, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. The sun was beginning to dip lower, softening everything around us.
“You’ve changed a bit,” Ethan said suddenly.
I frowned slightly. “In a good way or…?”
“In a lighter way,” he clarified. “You’re not as tense anymore.”
I looked down at my bottle. “Maybe I was just overwhelmed.”
“Everyone is,” he said. “Difference is, some people drown in it and some learn to swim.”
I didn’t respond immediately.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure which one I had been doing before.
“I think I’m starting to swim,” I said quietly.
Ethan smiled. “That’s the goal.”
A comfortable silence settled again, and I found myself actually enjoying it. Not filling it. Not escaping it. Just… being in it.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said after a while.
“That sounds dangerous,” I replied.
He laughed. “Relax. Not that kind of thinking.”
“Okay…”
“I know a few of us are going to a study group tomorrow night,” he said. “Proper one. No distractions, no pressure, just revision and food. You should come.”
I hesitated.
Old version of me would’ve overthought it. Made a list of reasons why I shouldn’t. Replayed every possible outcome.
But I didn’t do that this time.
“Alright,” I said.
Ethan blinked slightly. “That was easy.”
I shrugged. “I’m trying something new.”
“And what’s that?”
“Not overthinking everything.”
He looked at me like he approved of that answer more than he expected to. “I like this version of you.”
My stomach did a small, strange flip at his words, but I ignored it.
“Don’t get used to it,” I said lightly.
“Too late,” he replied.
The next evening, I showed up at the study lounge earlier than expected.
It was quieter than I thought it would be. A few students were already scattered across tables, laptops open, notes everywhere, the usual chaos of med students pretending they weren’t drowning.
Ethan waved me over the moment he saw me.
“Look who actually came,” he said.
“I said I would,” I replied.
“You also said you’d ‘try not to overthink things,’” he pointed out.
I dropped my bag beside the chair. “And I’m succeeding so far.”
“Debatable,” he muttered, grinning.
I ignored him and sat down.
Within minutes, I was pulled into conversation, notes being compared, explanations flying across the table. Someone handed me a snack. Someone else corrected my anatomy labeling. It felt… normal.
Like I belonged here without fighting for it.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t aware of anything else but the moment I was in.
“You’re actually good at this,” one of the girls said after I explained a pathway correctly.
I blinked. “I am?”
“Yeah,” she said. “You just doubt yourself too much.”
Ethan glanced at me from across the table but didn’t say anything.
But I felt it anyway.
By the time we were wrapping up, it was late.
I stretched my arms above my head, letting out a tired sigh. “Okay, I think my brain is officially full.”
“That’s a good sign,” Ethan said. “Means you used it.”
“Wow,” I said. “Inspiring.”
He laughed. “Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
“You don’t have to,” I started.
“I know,” he interrupted. “But I will anyway.”
I rolled my eyes, but I grabbed my bag.
We walked out together into the cool night air. The campus looked different at this hour—quieter, softer, less intimidating.
“I think today was good,” I said after a while.
“It was,” he agreed.
I nodded slightly. “I didn’t feel… lost.”
“You weren’t,” he said simply.
That sentence sat with me longer than I expected.
We reached my dorm building, and I slowed down.
“Thanks for today,” I said.
“Don’t mention it.”
I hesitated for a moment. “You make everything feel less heavy.”
He tilted his head slightly. “That’s either a compliment or a warning.”
“It’s a compliment,” I said quickly.
He smiled. “Good.”
There was a short pause between us.
Not awkward.
Just… quiet.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Tomorrow.”
He turned to leave, then paused slightly.
“Clara?”
I looked up.
“You’re doing better than you think,” he said.
And then he walked away.
I stood there for a moment, watching until he disappeared into the distance.
Then I went inside.
And for the first time since I started med school…
My thoughts were completely mine.
- Writer
