I hate waiting

For me, the most suffering memories I have from my childhood are always related with waiting. As a child I hated the eternal waiting for the Christmas day to finally get presents. The scariest moments of my childhood was when I waited for the school’s grades to reach my mom, and one of the worst: I sadly remember myself desperately waiting in my dad’s truck for him to come out of an office on a hot summer day.

I am sure that nobody likes waiting, never.

When you wait for a good thing to happen, for example waiting for someone you love at the airport is incredibly hard. For me, times runs slower than physics can explain. When I stand at the arrival gates waiting for my mom, sister, brother, every second feels like I am trying to reach a snail, but I can’t, because I am moving slower…every second.

When I wait for a bad thing to happen, for example when I first applied to get the Austrian citizenship two years ago, I had so much time to thing of all possibilities: what am I going to hear, what should I do if the answer is positive, what should I do if the answer is negative, and so on, back and forth. Time stretches and all you can do is think of possibilities, and when the possibilities are immense, time runs as if it would be no end.

At the moment I am waiting, I have been doing so for some weeks. I am trying to decode an answer but I simply can’t…there is no way out, the only thing I can do is...to wait.