Waterproof Mascara

I am no stranger to waiting…waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop, waiting in those god awful staged rooms with crappy magazines, and waiting on the delivery of  some out of left-field diagnosis. My life’s highway is curvy with emotional twists and turns where we have taken unforeseen detours while on our way to happily ever after.

I remember way back in the miles of my youth when the anticipation of waiting was an exciting time. Wondering if I made the highschool squad or team kept me fueled with anxiety and bouncing in the halls and through my days. I remember waiting for that acceptance for my college program. Stupid, naive me only applied to the one program I wanted to attend and thank goodness I was good enough to get in. Otherwise THAT wait could have gone an entirely different route.

There were the days of waiting for the dates to call…and ask…and the planning. And then the one boy who turned into an endless date who now comes home to me every night and wakes up with me every morning. Together we have planned, executed and lived a wonderful life together only to be interupted with various warning flags reminding us how life is not your own, so don’t get too comfortable.

And so we wait. Unlike the waiting of my youth, this waiting does not leave me light with anticipation, instead I am light-headed, dizzy, and anxious about the future. We are rearranging our thoughts, embracing another new normal and once again incorporating a detour into our happily ever after.

And I am back to wearing waterproof mascara.

My response to the Daily Post’s prompt, Waiting.


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