Musings - The Wait of the World

Waiting

I am waiting. I have been for a long time.

I have big waits and little waits, I have those that are important and those that are whimsy on my part.

The trouble with waiting though is the abundance of time for reflection, time to talk yourself from action and time to dissuade yourself from wanting what you really want when you are afraid of the disappointments that come with those wants.

My waiting and my wants usually end in my heartbroken self contradicting the motivated self that I portray as my shell.

Today I wait for the snow to melt whilst praying for more in the hopes of hiding away with my book, my blanket and my inner aches.

Yesterday I waited for work to end whilst feeling that reluctance to go home to the place where my failings are most intrusive.

Last week I waited to cheer in the Onders whilst mentally screeching on the brakes so as not to invite in yet another year of misery and milestones.

Last month I waited for Christmas, my favourite time of year, whilst knowing that again Santa hasn’t listened and my barren existence and empty womb is still as it is.

Last year I waited for wishes, for my guardian, my genie, my godmother whilst feeling each day that slow death of optimism and hope that I feel without almost knowing that I feel it.

In my last lifetime I fear I wanted and waited for nothing which is probably why the fates have decided that patience is the virtue that I will be tested with in this one.

I will get what I want though…

I have to…

For what wreck will I be if I don’t?