I hate waiting...grrr!

If patience is a virtue, then I am not virtuous. You are free to call me un-virtuous and I would not give a fart because no matter how many sermons I've got regarding that part of my live show, I will never ever ever ever learn and I would sincerely accept that as a fact.

I hate wating. I always do things in a rush. I won't have my mind at ease if I can't do things at that moment. I will get sleepless nights and troubled dreams. I will stress myself on thinking about what if's and what's gonna happen if I won't do it. I will be forever haunted by the missed impulse and kept urges. That's why I do not wait. I do things when I feel like it. I do not wait for the right moment. There is no such thing as right moments for me. It's cheesy. Cliche. It's being applied to dreamers only. The only thing that exists is regret if I didn't manage to get what I want when i wanted it and decided to keep the urge until it passes. That's also one of the reasons why my friends won't bring me to the mall, I can't keep myself from being impulsive. If  I see a cute dress or a pair of sexy stilettos, I would pick it out of the display and bring it straight to the cashier and I wouldn't mind welcoming poverty after that. I already have so many knick-knacks in my chest that I bought out of impulse and can't seem to fit a place for me to use it. It's really a psychological disorder. I'm crazy so it's normal for me.

My patience was tested last night. My fiance promised me that he'll visit me early so that we could go to the bank and have the money deposited and we can quickly book a flight for me to go home during the holidays. My palm's sweating and my fingers were super crossed. In fact, they're not crossed-- they're already twisted. To do my time away, I watched movies to distract my attention. I popped Dreamgirls since I haven't watched that film and I wanted to listen to Beyonce's Listen. Two hours had passed and there still no Jeremiah on the front porch. Not even a shadow of his ass. I was starting to cound ten to one just to ease the increasing turmoil. I was sitting in the sofa bed. Unabling to move. Yet my impulse is going haywire. I have to book the ticket and go home. He can't possibly do that to me! He should understand. I've already cried the other day because I did not manage to book a ticket and he promised he'd come early next. Another hour passed and I'm already in a depressed mood. Banks were already closed. He's not answering my calls. And I'm helpless and hopeless. I called my mom but the line cut short. I so hated everything that day. It was like I was having a withdrawal from a drug that I was using. I cried and whined. I counted again from ten to one with one being the part where I would inhale deeply. I would relax then cry again. I decided that it's of no use. Inside my head, I was already thinking of ways to make my fiance bleed. I was so mad! I want to throw things and reek havoc in the apartment because I want to book a flight and I can't do it! The familiar feeling of helplessness is flooding in again and so I would cry again. Another three hours passed, the madness and havoc already went down. I was calm and I was praying. And just as when I decided to close my eyes and sleep since he won't be coming, images of him dead inside the coffin would keep zooming in. My hatred and grief subsided but here comes Ms. Melancholia echoing dire deaths of my fiance in my head. It was because I called his younger brother and the latter tole me that he left the house early. He should be in my apartment even before the banks closed! I was worried and I prayed agian that I won't be plotting murder against my finace ever again so long as he would return home safe and unscathed. I was crying and whimpering. I was worried. Anger can be easily managed. But melancholy is difficult. Especially if you can hear your friends laughing outside your room.


I didn't know what happened. Maybe God listened to me and took pity. I managed to sleep and woke up with him beside me. My emotional turmoil was gone. That was the longest night I ever had. I still itch for the tickets. Let me check the flights again.