Waiting

Waiting is one of the hardest tasks to endure in life. Waiting for results, for stability, for love. A complete imbalance of the nervous system. The roller coaster of hope, excitement and disappointment. The feeling when you see the waiter bringing you your plate and then pass your table.

Im waiting.

Waiting to be loved, to be cared for, to be seen, to be chosen. screams internally I just want to be chosen. I want someone to see me and think: “yup, she’s it.” Give me the same courtesy, understanding, and flexibility I freely offer others.

Im at an impasse.

Where has giving gotten me? Used, overlooked, taken for granted.  I find myself wanting to harden my exterior. Close off the giving part of myself. I have given the wrong people my love, affection, and care. Vacations, meals, considerations. I never seem to receive comparably. In an effort to protect myself from this empty feeling I want to close it all off. Give nothing. Puff out my porcupine spines and never consider another person again. Yet every day I find myself telling others “oh well I can…” “Why don't we..” “I could..” I have to make a conscious effort to not offer myself to others. To put on my oxygen mask first.

In the end I find that giving more doesn't guarantee I’ll receive more. It surely didn’t save my marriage.

I have all this rage inside, this anger towards someone I shared a life with and yet Im waiting. Waiting for his car to drive up. I find myself looking out the window when I hear a car door. Waking up thinking he’ll text me. Waiting for him to say, “wow this has been really hard, Im sorry I did this to you, let me make it easier, let me make it better.”

Waiting.

But that’s the problem. I’ve been waiting. For years. I made space for the inadequacies, I made space for the miscommunications. I waited all while he was showing me he didn’t want to be there.

The waiting is still there with or without his presence or influence. It always has been. I now realize I expected too much from someone who continuously showed me that “doing” felt like a chore.

I must force myself to wait. To sit in the discomfort of my loneliness, my tiredness. Tend to my own life.

Before you turn to say to me, “you need to go out and get what you want,” trust me… Ive lived. I have done everything I have ever wanted. And now I would like to share it.

I daydream of a time when someone will consider my needs the way I consider others. I dream that someone will want to make something nice for me the way I do for others. The waiting doesn't stop me, it doesn't slow me down but it is an aura I carry.

Maybe someday I will find contentment without waiting. Peace without yearning. Stillness without dreaming.

Maybe someday I will.

Or this disease will end it all before my time comes. While I wait. ✨💗