It's Like I Waited My Whole Life Novels & Stories

“I’ve waited my whole life for you to care about my life. I’ve waited twenty years for this day. You’re not meddling at all! And if you insist on calling it that, then I hope you’ll meddle even more—the more, the better!” ***

“My name’s Dave. I’m nine. I think we might know someone you’ve been waiting for.” Eleanor Whitfield turned her head slowly, her eyes moving from Dave to the photograph on the table, and back again, something flickering behind them, sharp and sudden, the particular alertness of someone who had spent fifty years half expecting, against all reason, that one day, someone would finally come. “Waiting,” she said softly, her voice thin but steady. “I’ve been waiting my whole life, young man. Nobody’s ever said that word to me before. Not once. Not in fifty years.”

I just need you. I hesitated… then hit send. And then I stared at the screen like it held my whole damn life inside it.

I leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair, my casted arm aching dully, and closed my eyes. Waiting for whatever came next. Waiting without hope or fear. Just waiting. The way I suspected I’d be waiting for the rest of my life…however long that turned out to be

Somebody that would change my entire life as I knew it. And fuck if I haven’t been waiting for that for a long fucking time.

People had their lives to live, and no one was on the lookout for me, but in case someone saw me, I had my fake ID handy to produce to anyone with questions. Once outside, it was a warm day in London. I decided the noise of the park and kids playing on the grass was what I needed. There was something about the openness that made my heart twist in knots just watching them. I missed Ethan. Then I remembered another child, who would never walk on the grass or kick a ball. He was forever confined to a chair. The harder I worked at clearing the path for them, the more faraway the end seemed to be. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and froze.

Like it belonged to me. Like it had always been there, waiting.

He looked genuinely stunned, like this possibility had never occurred to him. "I've spent an entire year waiting," I continued, my voice steady and calm despite the emotion behind the words. "Waiting for you to treat me like I matter. Waiting for you to touch me like you actually want me instead of like it's a chore. Waiting for you to look at me the way you look at literally every other woman who crosses your path—with interest, with desire, with something. Waiting for any sign that I'm more than just convenient. That I'm more than just someone to fill space in your life until something better comes along." "Lia, that's not—"

He was the top student at Sterling High School, a very outstanding guy. What hurt him most was that the girl he liked really liked that other boy. Year after year, Luther kept telling himself to let her go, that they would never be together in this lifetime. Still, he could not accept it. He had met her first, after all. Like holding a one-way ticket that would never reach its destination, Luther waited for eight years. The pain of longing even drove him to pray at churches again and again. He only wanted one chance, one opportunity to stand before her openly and proudly.

I say, biting my lip nervously. I can only stare at the door anxiously waiting for him. The minutes tick by and seem like hours. However, that’s nothing compared to how long I have waited for a man like him to come into my life.