A day where I found myself waiting for something to happen. Waiting for a sign, a change, a moment. Waiting for there to be some kind of momentous shift in my life that would somehow make things different.
It's now 10 p.m.
I am still waiting.
I find myself having days, few and far between as they are, where I feel anxious and out of sorts. I wander around my apartment, I play half-heartedly with my dog. I write a chapter, then erase it and rewrite it again. I flip through channels, I watch the clock, I check my email forty times. I don't know what it is I'm waiting for. I don't know what it is that's causing me to feel ill at ease and unable to sit still even after a myriad of things to occupy myself. It isn't a bad feeling, just one that causes me to jump at every phone call and ping from my inbox.
I like to think this is my sixth sense way of preparing for the thing that is about to happen to me, which will surely be fabulous, and surely leave me breathless and elated, eagerly waiting for the next thing to happen along in my subconscious and burst gloriously through into reality in that movie worthy way we all secretly hope for.
So far, this has only happened a handful of times. I can list them.
1. In third grade, the boy I desperately loved with all of my heart got up from his desk with a piece of paper in his hand. It was the moment I was waiting for. I held my breath, I concentrated on my pencil. And the next thing I knew there was a note, with a single perfect heart drawn in the middle with our initials inside of it. Underneath, "I think I am in love with you. Let's sit together at recess." Single greatest moment of my life, up to that point.
2. Seventh grade. Contest for a "get out of jail free" pass to our monthly mass quiz. I prayed that it would be my name called, I crossed my fingers, I whispered "alison dodge, alison dodge" over and over in my mind. When the teacher pulled out the name, and said "Alison Dodge!" I nearly leapt from my seat. Thank God by seventh grade I was already 5'10" which made leaping out of a desk built for a 12 year old impossible.
3. 12th grade. The day I got accepted to college. My Dad brought me the envelope with "welcome freshman" printed across the front. Before I even read the words, before I even saw him coming, every single nerve was on edge, I knew something amazing was about to change my life.
4. The day I met John.
5. Today.
Well, so far, today has not delivered any great results. But I haven't given up hope yet. Without a doubt, something, anything, is about to happen. I can feel it.
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