waiting for the right time

3 min readSep 11, 2023

Sometimes, I wonder if the words are ready to flow from within me. Or if they’re still trapped within my mind, waiting for the right time to emerge, to confront the often harsh reality that remains obscured in the darkness of night. Despite it all, I’m grateful. At least I know where those words reside, where my heart is attempting to express itself amidst the resistance and the bitter unawareness. At least I can grasp a sense of direction, a thread that keeps me tethered even as I navigate the struggles of refusal and misunderstanding. I may not have lost myself entirely, although it often feels like a cycle of fading, surviving, and then learning to breathe anew. I may bear a recognizable face, but I acknowledge that I’m also a stranger to myself. Change has taken hold, an evolution I can’t help but embrace, even if you choose to remain blind to it.

As enchanting as daylight may be, its gentle kiss soothing upon my skin, it’s inevitably consumed by the arrival of tomorrow. I’ll bid farewell when I’m not quite prepared to let go of yesterday. That’s the curious part, you see, because sometimes the moment wanes in my eyes long before it does in yours. You’ll remain oblivious as I let myself fade, allowing everything to wither amidst confusion, projection, and the weight of missed connections. An apology feels poised on the tip of my tongue, yet I recognize there’s nothing to truly apologize for. This realization dances across my lips, a taste that melts upon my tongue, and I find myself not swallowed by the impending future but diving headfirst into its gaping maw. I’m prepared to confront each of its jagged, sharp teeth, even if they have the potential to inflict pain, for I am human, and evolution has fortified me to persist. I’m poised to master the tragedies that may come my way. I’ll witness breathtaking vistas and succumb to my own fears. I’ll shed tears, allowing my life force to escape, while the world is only known for its leers. And when I’m submerged in the very water that once cradled me in birth, I’ll recognize that all of us must ultimately return to where we originated, allowing our former selves to perish before the cycle of rebirth.

I cast a gaze upon the life I’ve lived, a life where I’ve chased after and yearned for attention like a child yearning for its mother’s embrace. I’ve longed for comprehension, for someone to unravel the intricacies of my soul, to understand the pain it has endured. My desire has been to be seen for who I am, not merely as a matter of convenience. I’ve wished fervently, often to the point of forgetting my own agency, my own ability to act, to make choices, and yes, sometimes even to be imperfect or irritable. I am not a moral quandary, regardless of how guilt may plague me. I, too, possess the capacity to leave the past behind, to offer a hand in friendship one last time, before I continue my ascent. I am unapologetic for the fact that you may no longer have a place in my life. I don’t wish to feel remorse for seeking my own serenity. It isn’t my failing that you couldn’t be a part of that journey, and perhaps it isn’t yours either. Yet, somewhere along the line, our grasp loosened until it vanished entirely, and you seemed to wait for me to initiate the effort, to gather you in my embrace and make everything right. You awaited my actions first, before you could even think to extend your own. My silence toward you felt jarring, unfamiliar, and unkind, as if you haven’t always been the quiet one. I won’t perpetuate that pattern any longer. I’m determined to live, to thrive, and I’ll be just fine even if none of you are there alongside me.