Waiting

Snapshots In My Time...Of My Time.....Hauntings.

Waiting is a terrible thing.  It can drain the soul of hope.  That is where I am today.  Not everyday, but today, this hour, this time, this second.  Waiting has a life.  At first it is filled with hope and anticipation that is really a good thing.  Spirits are high. That life is buoyant and  might even add some pep to your step. Time begins to pass and waiting changes.  It becomes first a lesson.  A lesson in patience and endurance.  The life of waiting changes to something hard and in the end becomes a force that will cut to the bone.  First we are patient or so we tell ourselves and we will ourselves to wait.  We tell ourselves waiting is good.  It will all work out in the end.  We tell ourselves this and even convince ourselves of this.  So waiting will become just a little bit tolerable.  More tolerable.  We wait.  We wait.  We wait some more. Then things start to happen. Things begin to come apart and then the waiting becomes a thing that can be our undoing.  We fix things.  We rob peter to pay paul.  We make adjustments.  We might even have to give up things we have cherished for so long.  Things that are dear and have much meaning.  It will take will and much thinking about them to let them go.  But they do.  We let them go.  Just a few things ago. It is the sacrifice we make to waiting.  We give them up and hope that we can somehow get them back.  Some things we cannot get back. We hope. We wait.  Then to much time has passed we begin to wonder.  Wonder what has happened. Some things that are in the mix are not because of our doing.  It may be due to the meanness of others. Things they did in the past increase the wait.  Some of the waiting is not your fault and cannot be undone.  Cruel circumstances add to the wait.  Hope begins to wane.  So many things are now lacking.  So many things are precarious.  Life on the edge.  Life on the edge is not good.  Waiting becomes a terrible, crushing thing.  It takes my breath away.  It runs away sleep.  The days become filled with exhaustion and worry.  Waiting weighs on my soul.  Much like the albatross, it is always there.  You can never really be away from it. So....no matter how I try to move things along, things move at their own pace. Trying to make things happen to stop the waiting sometimes works but not often.  After a while it becomes so hard.  Hard to keep smiling when all you want to do is cry.  Hard to keep going to you are so tired of trying to keep the plates in the air.  They are beginning to fall and break with no repair.  Hard to keep waiting.  Hard to keep living.  Waiting.  Waiting is hard.  Waiting is tiring.  Waiting breaks the soul.  Hope flees into the darkness.  It peeks out from time to time only to run and hide deeper once it see waiting controlling everything.  Waiting.  Waiting is death from within.