Waiting

I'm not that disappointed. It's definitely been worse. I'm just ready, that's all.

We've had a long time to get this together. What's five more months, really, in the scheme of things? I feel like I've spent my whole life waiting another year, another two.

I refuse to wait. I decided that last summer. When he left, I did not wait. I kept going, kept looking, kept doing. It was different after that--I was a different person. There was no potential left; all the energy was kinetic. I had no idea what I was doing, and for the first time, I just did things anyway. Aimlessly.

It was fucking beautiful.

Shit just fell into my lap after awhile, because I really did know what I wanted, somewhere in there. There was a snapshot in my head, of he and I happy somewhere. I didn't know where, but wherever it is, there are a million ways to get there.

If time is the fourth dimension, maybe I was able to see in 4-D for a moment. Maybe that's bullshit, and I just saw what I wanted. I might as well have seen the fourth dimension, because one of the very few things I know for sure is that we will live in that snapshot at some point. Maybe not for the rest of our lives, or happily ever after, and honestly, I don't give a shit. I just know we'll get there.

Maybe I'll spend these five months learning how to not wait...better. As long as I'm learning, I'm not sitting around, idealizing over things that haven't happened yet. That shit is always unhealthy.