Many of my friends have asked me why I’m waiting this time. They ask me if I am a masochist (probably), if I’m out of my head (definitely – but that’s nothing new), and if I have forgotten everything that happened six months ago (I never forget – though I do forgive).
I didn’t think (and still don’t think) that there’s really much of a reason to justify those questions with a response. But waiting is hard. It’s harder this time than it was before – before I didn’t know what I was waiting for. In many ways I still don’t. Yet still, I continue to do it.
It is no one’s business but mine (and his) to know exactly what was said that inspired this bout of masochism. And I won’t repeat those things here – or to anyone else.
But, if you want to know why I’m doing it:
Simply put, I’m waiting because I choose to.
Because the possibility, no matter how large or small, of having what I want if I only wait is infinitely more preferable than the certainty of never having it if I do not.
And because I believe that if I do get what I want in the end, the masochism will have been worth it.