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“Truth,” I say, picking the safer option.
Or is it safer? I don’t want to be dared to stand up and cluck like a chicken, but maybe that would be preferable to baring my heart if that’s what’s asked.
“Are you happy in San Antonio?” he asks.
I expected a question about us — maybe about my feelings for him — so this one nearly knocks me over from surprise.
“Yes,” I say automatically.
His eyes narrow. “Really?”
“That’s two questions. You get one.”
“And you’re supposed to tell the truth.”
I scoff. “What makes you think I’m not telling the truth?”
He leans back and crosses his arms across his broad chest, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Because you didn’t answer the question.”
His confidence is both infuriating and intoxicating. I take another swig of my beer to buy myself time to think of how to answer truthfully without revealing too much.
“It’s complicated,” I finally settle on.
He raises an eyebrow. “Complicated how?”
I hesitate for a moment before deciding to dive in.
“Well, I love my job and I’ve made some good friends, but sometimes I feel like something’s missing. Like there’s more to life than what I’m doing. Which I know is weird. I love being a doctor, and it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. I just… Maybe there’s another way to go about it.”
The words surprise me. I didn’t know I felt this way until right now. It’s like I’ve finally given myself permission to speak my truth and it’s just spilling out of me.
“What other way?” Josh asks.
“I don’t know.” I pick at the label on my beer and think about how satisfying it was to help the patient at my mom’s practice. Maybe a big city hospital isn’t the place for me after all.
Maybe I should open my own practice in San Antonio. Do things my own way.
“I think I know what you mean,” Josh says. “It’s like we get stuck in this routine, and before we know it, years have gone by and we haven’t really lived.”
“Exactly,” I say, feeling emboldened by our shared understanding. “I don’t want to just go through the motions. I want to really live, you know?”
He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, the weight of our unspoken thoughts hanging in the air between us.
“So,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “What are you going to do about it?”
It’s a simple question, but it sends my mind whirling. WhatamI going to do about it? It’s not like I can just throw the life I’ve built away and start over in one day. But at the same time, I don’t want to keep living this half-life, always wondering what could have been if I’d taken a chance.
“I wish I knew,” I say, feeling a bit defeated.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his eyes searching mine. “Maybe you don’t have to do it all at once. Maybe you can start small. Take a day off and explore the city. Or volunteer at a clinic in a different part of town. See how that feels.”
I nod slowly, taking in his words. It’s a simple idea, but it feels like a revelation to me. Maybe it’s not about making huge changes all at once. Maybe it’s about taking small, intentional steps towards the life I want to live.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling grateful for his perspective.
He smiles warmly at me. “Anytime.”
