hard, difficult, risky, confusing.
It feels like a heavy bag to carry sometimes and other times, it's weightless.
Waiting for results, waiting for responses, waiting before making a decision that alters your future.
Am I waiting for someone to rescue me from this cocoon I've wrapped myself into? Or can I burst out from it by myself?
How do you know when you've waited long enough? Can you wait too long? Is there such a thing as over-waiting?
I'm waiting to find out my job assignment for next year.
I'm waiting for "free time" to sort through memories and long forgotten boxes of things I thought I couldn't live without.
Having patience is not the same as waiting. My tolerance for other people to pull themselves together seems unlimited but I'm harder on myself.
I want to know the deadline.
And there it is- the word dead.
He's dead. No more waiting for him to return. I'm waiting to return to him but I know my job isn't finished here.
So I wait. And wonder. And try to figure out this life I have now.