The sunlight streamed through the windows blanketing my shoulders in warmth. Smiling I wrapped my hands around my mug and lifted it to meet my lips. I didn’t drink the tea, merely let the steam rise up and fog my glasses. I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out, savoring this brief moment of calm. I felt content, at least for the moment. My head was pounding, filled to the brim with swirling thoughts. But I put pushed it to the back ground. Worrying wouldn’t solve anything, I just had to wait.
I was never good at waiting. Even when it was a surprise. If someone told me I had a surprise coming, it would eat me up inside as I wondered each second if the next would bring the surprise with it. I force myself to wait now. Being patient is not easy, but I make it work. I’ve learned how. Taking another deep breath, I followed it with a sip of tea. The warm liquid slid past my tongue and down my throat. I could wait. I didn’t have to let it eat me up inside.
I sat still, legs crossed, slouching ever so slightly in the chair. I held my mug with both hands, and nestled into the thick scarf around my neck. I can be patient, I reminded myself. My whole body responded, except my toes which continued to dance around inside my shoes.
I’d been sitting here for quite some time now. I had no idea when it would be over. Maybe I had read the message wrong. Maybe it wasn’t even happening today. If so, I had readied myself for no reason at all. I could have stayed in my pajamas all day. But I was here now, so there was no point in visiting what-ifs. It would only make the waiting harder. And if it didn’t happen, well what-ifs have a way to make it seem so much worse.
Every time the door opened, I peaked out from behind the mug and scarf to see if it was happening. It wasn’t, not any of the times I looked. Part of me kept whispering dangerously in my ear. Maybe next time, it would say, it’ll happen next time. After all the time I had spent waiting, getting ready for apparently no reason, I was ready for next time to finally show itself.
I had shifted from worry to frustration and back again a number of times while waiting. It was part of the process and I knew it well. Though with all my heart I wished it wasn’t. Waiting while having no idea when it will happen is hard enough, becoming frustrated based on the little knowledge I had made it so much harder.
I decided to wait for the door to open one more time. If it didn’t happen then, I would go home, put on my pajamas and watch bad TV. This was how it worked in all the books and the movies. The minute before the person leaves, it happens. Maybe that would happen to me. I had been waiting long enough surely the chances of it occurring where in my favor.
The door opened, and I peaked out from behind my mug and scarf. My stomach did a summer salt. That looked a lot like…
…but it wasn’t.
I sighed.
Maybe next time, I told myself settling back into my seat, maybe next time.
You conveyed this well, I think, because I am feeling it with you.
Thank you:)
I’m sorry you’re experiencing this, it’s can make the days seem very long