Waiting

So much of life is spent waiting. For something to happen, something to come. For change. And then to get used to the change while also hating it for happening. For the right job, the one where waking up on a Monday to get to work is not the worst thing in the world. For a holiday, because it would mean a break from the tedium of every day.

We wait for love. For the right person. Someone we are told will save us, make us whole. Someone we know will not, but will definitely try.

We wait for friendship. For those people who will truly listen to us, accept us wholly and completely and stay through the worst times because those make all the good times even better.

We constantly wait for the right time. To take off, to come back. To say what we truly mean. To hear what we need to hear. To be ourselves. To enjoy ourselves. Because we believe that it is only the right moment that will validate whatever it is we have been waiting for.

So much of our life is spent just waiting. I wish we could stop waiting so much and actually maybe start doing, believing. Being.

More importantly, just saying.

Because for some things there will never be the right time or the right place. Like telling someone that you love them. Or someone that you don't.

Then again, doing and saying are difficult things. Waiting is safer, less risks involved.

If only we tried, though. Things would be much more difficult. But then at least they would be different. Maybe with a little more truth to them.