[dw] 16 & 17 Jun 2008
A Secret Wish.
She’d been alone for as long as she could remember. She’d always found a way to entertain herself, whether it was by creating pretend-friends as a child or by picking up various hobbies. She’d learned the basics of a number of different languages by the time she finished college, taking a random class here or there. It was easy for her to pick up the words and the accent, parroting what she heard in classes and on tapes. She was a born pretender.
It wasn’t until she was in high school that she realised that she was inherently lonely. Surrounded by friends, she managed to still find a way to keep a piece of herself away from them, a piece she kept close and never showed anyone else. She yearned to find someone who could penetrate the fortress of her heart, someone who could understand her. Ever the over-achiever, she set seemingly impossible goals, always meeting them effortlessly. To hide the loneliness inside, she filled her life with people, but people who could never see the real her under all the layers. She felt safe with them; she could be the person she desperately wanted to be: confident, powerful, a born leader.
If only she could find her other half, that someone who would understand her childhood, that someone who could see her through the fog she cloaked herself in. It was an unendurable yearning within her, a desire buried so deep within the core of her being, she didn’t know if she could shake it.
A Fork in the Road.
What she had to do was so clear. Intensely clear. She didn’t have to do much of anything actually. All she had to do was wait, and wait she did. She sat in that chair for over two hours, just waiting for… something. What was she waiting for anyway? It seemed to her that it would all be clear when it was meant to be, but she had no idea how long that would take.
Where was her sign? How would she know when to act? Was there going to be a sign and would she even recognise it when it showed up? She had no idea. Everything was so confusing, and she didn’t want to have to make any of these decisions right now. She was tired, so tired, after 4 days with minimal sleep. What little sleep she did get was obtained sitting straight up in the same hard chair she was in right now.
She picked at a scab on her arm, peeling the thickened skin off, the blood seeping slowly out of the open wound. Her head bent, she didn’t realise she was crying until a tear splashed onto her arm, barely missing the scab she had peeled off. Wiping at her eyes, she pressed her feet down against the ground, trying to centre her soul in her body between the sky and the ground, but failing miserably.
Suddenly she knew what to do, and she felt a new-found strength coursing through her veins as sucked in a deep breath of the sour, antiseptic-smelling air. Firmly standing, she headed down the white corridor to see the doctors.