Spending one’s life waiting, hoping, wishing, anticipating.. but most of all, waiting. Waiting for the moment of meeting, the moment of true connection, just waiting…
Years, and the waiting turns to resentment, disappointment and pain. The intimate moments disappearing before your eyes. So you pick yourself up, telling yourself that you are stronger than you seem, more courageous that you believe… yet the hope lives on, but only a little, for what could be worse than more of the same… You stop waiting and make things happen.
Years, and you celebrate your inner life, having walked through the fire and coming out, not unscathed but resilient. You grow through these rites of the passage of time, you claim what is yours, you embrace the passion which has sat dormant, you come full circle to the love you’ve always had. You accept that intimacy and connection may be scarce in your world. Most importantly, you are finally You once again, ensconce with your passion and a rich inner life.
And then he is back, talking of intimacy and connection. You are wrong for no longer hoping, no longer anticipating, no longer wishing, wrong for having a passion, wrong for having a room of one’s own. Most certainly wrong for no longer waiting. Aren’t you?
For it seems the roles have reversed…
When your waiting is done and you strike off on your own, when you have an inner life of your own, he wants to share in that life… no, he wants priority over the life you have taken one damn step after another over hot coals to create; a priority he did not bestow on you. Oh, the irony!
Do you give over to the hoping, the wishing, the anticipating… and perhaps more waiting? Once again, begin to dare to hope, to wish, to anticipate … To put your self second…again?
Too little, too late? Or are you just plain petrified?
Just when you think it is all sorted…Life changes.
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