the waiting

A friend I recently made asked me, rather politely actually, why was I still waiting for him (someone else, not my new friend)?

And that got me thinking all day: Why was I?

(Is the correct way of saying that, why were I? Is that important?)

I had different answers depending on what time of day it was. At one moment, it was I'm not really waiting. I have a life.

Another moment, it was because when harvest season is over, he'll be okay again and things will be better.

The next moment, it was that's what he said about July.

Another moment, it was because when we're together we make sense. He may have so many other things prioritized over me, but he's always there when I need him and he always says the right things. In that funny old fashioned way of his, but he's always comforting or amusing and always bringing a smile to my face.

Another moment, it was well, I've waited this long, might as well see what happens next.

Another moment, it was if I wasn't waiting, nothing much is all that different anyway. And I told him I'll wait.

Another moment was does he really care if you are?

My friend made me smile when we talked about how he was confident that he had made someone happy. This was another conversation, galaxies away from that conversation that had me thoughtful (please read that again: thoughtful, not anxious) all day. How nice, to be happy. To have someone who makes you happy. That would be something I would like to have, one day.

I didn't mean for this to sound sad. I just had so many thoughts going on today and I can't help that this last thought is so sad. But sneezing sadness seems to be contagious these days. Please don't catch it from me.