nothing witty... just me.

Not complaining, just STATING that the process of WAITING.. is agonizing. I'm trying SO HARD!! I don't think about it near as much. I certainly don't voice it unless I'm joking around [[that being saying I need a boyfriend after seeing an old man walk by or someone that obviously doesn't shower]]. But regardless... I AM still trying. But for some reason, so MYSTERY, I can't get this twisting out of my stomach that waiting is in fact settling. That, me sitting around waiting for it to happen to me is IN FACT detrimental. Like... when your making cookies [[i'm not fat]] and they 5 minutes left on the timer as well as a cooling down time after they're out. But you want one SOO bad. Once their out, cooled, and have the perfect golden brown outside with the gooey, chewy, yummy inside... you go to reach for one... and someone slaps your hand. Hard, aggressive, and it stings! They look at you, right in the eye, and say "no! didn't you know their better the longer you let them sit?!". So you comply. The cookies sit there... the steam goes away, they aren't quite as fluffy looking, and the center isn't quite as gooey looking. So, before they go completely bad you reach for one. You're fingers are within an inch... *SLAP*... yet again you're told to wait just alittle longer. Seriously, after you've waited the RIGHT amount of time, it'll be the BEST cookie you've EVER had. So you sit there.... in front of the cookies watching everyone else pawing them, taking them, eating them, enjoying THEIR cookie. You're forced to sit there, salivating, watching everyone else take one, sometimes two. I'm sitting there, watching everyone else get cookies and I'm left with my nose smooshed against the glass window of the bakery wondering "how come they get to enjoy their cookies and all i have is a welt on my hand?"
relationships are the cookies, my hand is my heart. I'm welted, just wanting what everyone else around me has. But I'm constantly told to wait. wait. wait. wait. Once I have one, it'll be worth it. What if, once I have my "cookie", it's hard, crumbly, old, and cold. Why is my face the only one leaving a mark on the glass window? Why am I the only one having to wait? Am I listening to other people more than I'm listening to God? Has the answer been in front of me the whole time and I just didn't see it because I've been asking the wrong baker. No longer. I'm done listening to the sous chef... my ears are focused on the executive chef.
I got inspired by this while watching Gilmore Girls [[suprised? i think not]] Luke and Lorelai, in the 5th season, finally started dating. They were really good friends, saw each other everyday, knew each other better than they knew themselves, and were finally happy together. In one episode Luke says to Lorelai, "it only took us 8 years to get here". It's a running joke between me and my best friend Mer that I'm Lorelai. Well... where's my Luke? Where's the one person that will know me better than I know myself. And is it going to take 8 years? *humph*
I suppose.... i can wait alittle while longer. My hand can take it...