Waiting

Sometimes waiting is hard:
Is he going to call?
Is he going to write?
Will he make the bold gesture?
Are we on the same page?
Should I say anything?
Did I say enough?
Did I say too much?

All of these questions and most of them don’t really have an answer. We agonize ourselves asking questions over and over in our mind, analyzing every word and gesture, hardly recognizing what is happening right in front of us.

And we barely even know what we would do if we actually got an answer to our questions. But somehow there is comfort in the asking.

And so we wait.
In anticipation.
With butterflies.
And hope…

I mean, I’m a cynic and everyone tells you it doesn’t happen like the movies but…maybe a prince does exist somewhere.