And I Wait

What am I doing, you might ask? I'm just waiting.

Waiting for something to change. Waiting for something good to happen. Waiting for something bad to happen. Whichever comes first, I suppose.

Waiting for my life to begin, like I thought it did four years ago. Like I thought it did three years ago. Like I thought it did one year ago. But no, I'm still waiting. Sitting here all patient-like, twiddling my thumbs, humming a tune, trying to keep my chin up and my head high and my smile on. Trying to keep from losing hope. Trying to remember that my waiting will stop eventually, that it will all pay off in the end, that something is going to change. All I need to do is wait.

And so I do. I wait. Like a good little girl with my legs crossed at the ankles and my nice, white dress so free of stains, I wait.

I wait for the clouds to slide on by and leave the sun shining down on me. I wait for someone to answer my questions, to take me by the hand and lead me forward. I wait to be heard, wait to receive my voice. I wait for someone to see me, really see me, and I wait for someone to care about what they see. I wait to care back. I wait and I wait and I tell myself that it's good to wait, it doesn't mean anything that I'm sitting here waiting. It's not a waste of life, it is life. Life is waiting. And that's what I'm doing.

And waiting is better than sleeping in the dirt.

Isn't it?

I wait to lose my patience. I wait to scream, to cry, to break. I wait to reach a point where I can no longer wait at all, and I wait to see what I will do when that point comes. I wait to become a disappointment. I wait to make mommy cry, to make daddy refuse to so much as awknowledge my name. I wait to make everyone hate me at last, the way I know they should.

I wait for the scars that I put on my arms to heal. I wait for the blood to dry and crack and peel away. I wait for my smile to feel natural. I wait to be comfortable in this spotless white dress that they put me in. I wait to know what I would feel comfortable in. I wait to know my name, to speak it aloud and feel how good it will taste on my lips. I wait to find out if any of that will ever happen. I wait for the courage to believe it will.

And so I sit here, and I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait.

Published by Ciara Hall


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