the diary of a waiting heart

You told me before to wait. “It’ll come,” you said. I remember my heart slightly breaking, though it wasn’t enough to stop me from plodding on. In my heart I guess I knew you were saying the truth. Foolish of me, maybe… Why would you believe someone you barely knew? Someone you just met. Someone who moved in a world entirely different from yours. To these questions, I was met by silence. But still I kept on.

At times, it was difficult, yes. I am not used to waiting, the selfish little princess that I was. I wanted everything all at once. The glimmer of light kept shining, never fading, but I reasoned I wanted a lighthouse, not a lamp from a fishing boat. Despite my protests, you circled your arms around me and whispered gently, “It’ll come. There’s no need to rush; just wait.”

Two years have almost passed. And I’m mighty glad I stayed.

Truth is, there was never a time when I ever thought of running away. So unlike the past. A bit unnerving actually, but surprisingly pleasant.

No single moment defines this, and that’s exactly how I like it – memorable moments cupped somewhere between our 2-block walks, unforgettable lines said at the most unexpected times, meaningful touches during our weekend trips. And sometime, somewhere between these moments, I realized my waiting is finally over and I’ve finally come home.