Waiting

I thrive on action. I want to direct the world to get my way, impatiently demanding it change. Come on! I want things to happen, and I want them to happen now. I hate watching the things I can’t control wave at me from a distance

Most times I make things happen, charge in and around, sometimes fixing things, sometimes breaking things, but I am doing something.

And I do think; these aren’t blind leaps of faith. I might jump as soon as I can, but I am looking down. I know exactly where I am headed, and all that is left is to wait for the ground.

The worst part is the fall where I’m floundering around in midair. My throat is choking on my rising stomach, the wind is rushing by me and I can’t breathe because I am finally recognizing my fears, those fears that didn’t keep my feet where they used to belong.

But right now I’m not jumping, I’m not falling, I am sitting cross-legged on the ground, slumped and slouched and sighing….God, I am really close to whining, because I am waiting.