#needcriticism

[martialartsblogstuff]

[shesinlovewithsomeoneelse]

Meh, more writing stuff BECAUSE I CAN.

It’s all in the waiting.

            The waiting for that important telephone call. The waiting for a midnight premiere. The waiting for a loved one to pull through. That aggravating, numbing feeling that you want something with all of your heart and soul, yet knowing that it’s not here yet, and all you have left is to wait. Some people twiddle their thumbs, some meditate, some read a book. And then there are the people who willingly choose to sit in the bog of waiting, to endure the anxiety clawing at your chest and cause your heart to clamber out of your chest and run away.             I am not one of those people as I had just described. I can tell you right now, at this exact moment in time, I am waiting for this nosebleed to end. As I began writing, the nosebleed began, as if to say, “No, stop your writing! Attend to me!” But, with the help of modern technology known as the Kleenex Tissue, I swiftly stuffed that clever device up my nose and temporarily muffled the cries for attention. And then, going even further, I’m currently waiting for my father to decide to go to sleep so that I can send a text to my boyfriend saying that it’s safe to come over and watch a movie with me. Living in this house my entire life, I can easily trace where my father is based on his footsteps (he wears cowboy boots) and whatever he’s handling.

            Basically, you know it’s going to be a long night when you hear him meander from his office, down the hall, into the kitchen to pour himself another glass of wine, as well as fix some sort of bedtime snack (the plastic sound of wrappers unraveling to reveal some kind of nourishment gave that away) (and he’s the one saying he needs to watch his cholesterol and blood pressure and weight and what not) (way to be sneaky, I definitely saw that empty Doritos bag in your trash can in your office the other day).              And then there’s me, sitting on my bed with tissue shoved up my nose, waiting for the blood to quit pouring forth and for the boyfriend to come and get some cuddle time. But back to the main theme here.

            Waiting really “ain’t so bad” when you actually sit down and look at it. Adrenaline junkies probably get a kick out of it, with the whole anticipation because you know something great’s about to happen and then when you actually get there it’s (hopefully) going to be completely worth waiting for. I’m sure a few of you are wondering, “Well, what about the things you’re forced to wait for but really don’t want to wait for?”

            One instance that comes to mind is sex. Not just the superficial act of sex, the “smooshing together of parts” that creates this great finale that leaves both parties completely and utterly satisfied. Those of you who practice homosexualism, this doesn’t really pertain to you (but I’m still sure you’ll be able to relate to it nonetheless). But when you have a man and a woman and they’re fooling around and feeling around and tasting around, things tend to get hot and heavy and before you know it, the clothes are gone and he wants to be inside her and she wants him inside her.

            Lo and behold, a giant “WAIT” escapes from one or the other’s parted lips. And, seeing that in this particular instance, neither party is interested in bearing a child, they’ve got to pull out this little contraption called The Condom. Depending on how fast he can get it on and they can continue their espionage, the girl is typically now stuck waiting. In that waiting, she could suddenly decide that she’s not really “feeling” it anymore, that maybe he’s not as attractive as she had thought he was, or some other obscure reasoning that makes sense in her head. Then there’s the guy who’s praying that his fingers are as nimble as he hopes they are in ripping off that wrapper and getting it on right and not ripping it and oh dear he does have quite a lot on his mind especially when he’s as excited as he is.

            Neither the man nor the woman really wants to spend these ten or twenty seconds taking a break from their rendezvous, but they know that they have to if they want to finish off what they started and not have an “oh, shit” moment in which both would be entwined together for the rest of their lives.

            And that, ladies and gentlemen, is some reasoning behind the process of waiting.

[shesinlovewithsomeoneelse]

Sparks of inspiration, looking for comments...

“Life is just a paradox, really.” She snuggled under my arm, nudging her bare breast against my side. “You go through being a teenager just wanting to be an adult, because we've got it in our heads that being an adult tantamounts to freedom.” She rolled over onto her back, her head tilted back as her neck arched over my bicep, exhaling as she stared at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, her voice dropped to a low whisper. “Then here we are, technically adults, but we're still kids. We turned 18, the freedom never came. We're still the same as we were before. Soon we'll have to pay the taxes, pay the bills, pay for education, when our entire lives have been spent spending nothing compared to what's going to be spent in the next year or so.” Turning on her side again, she looked me in the eyes. “We graduate from this hell hole, then what? We have to get a job. We have to go to school. We get the job, we go to school, then we finish with that. Then, saying this works out, let's just say we get married and decide to have kids together. Then we have to make sure we've got these established careers in order to support our lovely children, keep a roof over our head, and in the long run, enable them to have an education. And that's life, according to the standards of society. Be successful, reproduce, retire, die. Where's the adventure in that? When do we get the chance to get out and do everything we've ever wanted to do? When do I get to jump out of a plane? Bungee jump off a cliff? See the Eiffle Tower? I want to have fun while I'm still young, but everybody else just refuses to put it in the schedule.” She had that perplexed look on her face, with her eyebrows knit together and her mouth purging forth. Behind the frustration, I could see that spark of sadness that she might not ever get the chance to live her dreams. That she'll be stuck doing what everyone's been telling her she needs to do. I took my free hand and cradled her face, then pulled her towards me, kissing her gently on the mouth. When I pulled away, her eyes were still shut; she opened them slowly, eyes wide and dark, and I did the only thing I knew how to do, the only thing I knew would slightly ease her pain. “I love you.” She smiled. “I love you too, boo.”