I stare down at my hands clutching the rumpled white sheets, tears swimming in my eyes. “I don't have a job or money. I won't be able to finish my degree. I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't go to medical school. And all that is on top of the issues with my family and me being half your age and an anxious basket case. Why would you want to be with someone like that?” A tear hits the sheets below me. “I’m not good enough for you.”
