Wednesday, 26 November 2014

The Waiting Place...For People Just Waiting

It's been a long time.

And why not? I've spent most of that time in a cycle about as exciting and unpredictable as a washing machine's. When life's got you pinned down in the trenches of practicality and routine, it's tough to find new things to say. Things that you want to say.

So you wait.

I'm twenty-two years old, still living at home while I finish a Bachelor of Arts degree at university. And, despite the fact that the people I grew up with are scattered around the world, despite the fact that I feel left behind and inexperienced, I know that I am a patient enough person to handle it. Still, it's frustrating.

It's not as if I've been entirely trapped. Over the past three years, for example, I have twice travelled across the continent. Alone. Having barely ever flown at all before. The first time I did it, I hardly knew how to read a plane ticket, let alone how to navigate layovers. Significant challenges accosted me during both trips, and somehow, as naïve and unsure of myself as I was, I somehow managed to quell them all. During the first time in my life where I had no lifeline, no shield, nobody to provide either protection or guidance, I discovered something: I needed none. Forging through these challenges, piecing together this realization, I felt many different ways throughout, sometimes all at once: Terrified. Versatile. Independent. Insufficient. Invincible.


And perhaps, in part, it is that cacophony of feelings, a poignant mixture that I never experienced before or since those trips, that has incited my craving for change. To shatter lifelong boundaries and carve out new chapters of my existence.

So now, as I wait, it is this knowledge that rejuvenates my patience. This knowing that soon enough I'll have the chance of being on my own in the world, along with the fear of the pain that's sure to greet me there. The thrill of wondering if I can make it. The chill of being certain that I can.

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