Waiting For The Miracle

When I wait for M to arrive I'm usually really antsy. I'm excited, impatient, nervous, and when I'm waiting for him to pick me up from work, irritated also. Not irritated with him, irritated that I have yet to figure out a way to prep for a visit directly following work so that I look pretty and presentable. It's an odd mix of dread at not being attractive and longing for him to appear.

This visit I had about an hour wait at my job before M picked me up. I normally hate the music at work, so I popped my iPod in, and Leonard Cohen's "Waiting for the Miracle" came up on shuffle. It was soothing and, I felt, preternaturally appropriate, so I replayed it over and over as I waited. I closed my eyes and let the words and music lull me.

While I sat there, listening, I thought about how I am always so anxious when I'm about to see M. And how I look forward to the times when we'll be together, and how I hate when we have to part. And I thought to myself that I should be more thankful to have this time before to be able to devote my thoughts to him. I thought, "This is the best part, because the time with him is a blur you will struggle to remember. Your pleasure with him clouds your memories of it later, and when he leaves you you will have so long before you will see him again. You only have a few more minutes before he will be with you and you need to savor the waiting that is short, because the waiting that will happen after will be much, much worse."

It helped to realize that, to have that conversation with myself. Along with the music I was able to decompress from work, and when he arrived I was very happy to see him. The beginning was bittersweet, for reasons other than waiting. When we got back to my place we showered and then cuddled in bed. We fell asleep much earlier than usual, and the next day he dropped me off at work.

And then the waiting begins again...