Anxious Waitings
I'm writing this out while I wait at the bar. I plan to record it later.
My heart is going faster than I think it should. I'm sweating, and it's not because of the summer heat. I'm nervous, and it feels strange. There's bile rising in my throat and I feel every part of me constrict in agony.
Something is terribly wrong.
But it isn't.
I know it's not because I'm not sick. I'm anxious.
I need to breathe. I need to breathe.
It's nothing serious. I shouldn't have to worry. But it's been so long since I've had anyone to talk to I fear that I will screw it up somehow. He's too kind when he tells me not to worry. His comfort almost makes me more anxious. There's more to let down, more to lose.
And now I wait.
I wait for him.
I've never waited for someone in my life. No one's ever waited for me. This is the most incredible discomfort I've ever felt. Comparable to witnessing death, there is no melancholy here. There is a tense air that only I can breathe, feel, see.
Foolish, is what I am. I thought I had left that behind in youth but I was wrong. I can't be intelligent if this is how I react to sitting in silence. I lack patience in a way that would be laughable if not so sad.
I must go. He is here.
Wish me luck, possibly from far in the future.