Have you ever had the uncertainty that creeps along your neck and down your spine. The uncertainty of being whole, of being whole without someone else? I hate that feeling and the only time I get that uncertainty and assurance of myself is when I’m waiting for that damn phone to ring or the door to knock. The moments seem like eternity when you place yourself entirely in the hands of someone else. That vulnerability that sets you up for ultimate failure. The feelings of uncertainty creep in and suddenly the untimely ring erupts the silence, however, it is not the ring of opportunity, of neediness, of long awaited completeness, and you realize that he is clearly avoiding you for the sole purpose of keeping the anticipation high. But the spectacle of wonder still lingers of not knowing if he is waiting for a peak climax or if he is really at the demise of this story.The depression of knowing that the uncertainty is the only thing that will keep you company tonight rides high along your emotional state.
The only person I wish to seek is not in that phone call, however, but within a distance of two hundred feet from my front door. Everyday I ponder the idea of what my life would be like if I had just enough nerve to walk those two hundred feet and tell him how I feel, to tell him that there is no one else I’d rather see, no where else I’d rather be than in this very spot showing him how much I crave his touch, how I crave his soothing voice and genuine smile, and the very thought of him makes my aching heart beat with anticipation for his next words. If I could plainly tell him that I love him would that have any effect on my life, on my existence but the dread does not come from what I would say to him, the dread and fear comes from what he would say.