Waiting

I think we retreat into fantasy because it is more compelling than reality. Or perhaps I should say we retreat into fantasy when it is more compelling than reality. I have found that my life often has these periods of waiting in it. Waiting for my doctor’s appointments and then waiting to hear what he has to say. Waiting for my school work to be marked and then waiting to see if I am good enough to go on. It’s funny how the two equate. As I write this I’m waiting for my next appointment with my orthodontist. That appointment will determine when my jaw surgery is scheduled. I am also waiting on the university to hear back about my Ph.D. application. Their decision will chart the course of my life for the next few years. Whoever said waiting is easy was wrong. Waiting is the hardest part.

It is true that change too is hard, but I think the waiting is worse. Waiting creates uncertainty. Change at least is action. Once the waiting is over, at least, I will know. Oh, the surgeon has promised me a bite, but what about the rest of it? I admit actually being able to chew my food has a serious allure and if that is all I get out of this I will be happy. Yet, I can’t help dreaming. What would it be like to wake up in the morning fully rested and pain-free? To sleep through the night and not wake up gasping from dreams of drowning? To have a single day where my head didn’t ache? Perhaps these are silly fantasies, but you can see why the waiting is worse than change. Hope never dies.

Well, that was depressing. I swear I don’t sit around moping about how much pain I’m in. I simply ponder how life could be better. One of the ways I hope it will get better is that I will be accepted in a Doctorate program. I have always dreamed of being an English professor and I am so close I can taste it. Still, I know I am merely clever not brilliant. Waiting for what I pray will be an acceptance letter and planning for failure is killing me. Knowing is always better, even when it’s something you don’t want to hear.

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