Only do what pain allows...

The waiting. The wanting. Something inside me snaps. And I hate myself for it. And I hate those around me who contributed to it. And I hate how I've failed, and how others have failed me. I hate that I have to deal with this. And I hate how I can't count on anyone to be completely there when I need them, exactly the way I need them to be. And then I can't even sleep, because of my noisy brain. No matter how tired I am. It's impossible to accomplish anything but lying here in bed. Frustrated and victimized at three in the morning.

The world has changed his heart...

But it all adds up to nothing...

It's that feeling I get somehow knowing that something great is about to happen. While every passing day nothing great really does happen. I wake up, go to work, exercise, play my games, sleep and wait for another monotonous day. I know the great day is not tomorrow, not even the day after, not even in a week or a month's time. 

But it will come soon, the way you meet someone without expecting or knowing that you are going to have so much fun together. It will come soon, the way dreams come true overnight, demanding years of perspiration, ironically. It will come soon like a gush of cold air in a hot afternoon. It will come soon like a stranger you feel you have already met. It will come like a guest who would be here to stay. It will come like an eternity, a serendipity, an irony. It will come when it is time for it to come, the way you fall asleep and dreams arrive from a distant land, surely but stealthily.