It's Like I Waited My Whole Life นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Just waiting for the hammer to fall. Just like I had been waiting my entire life.

And then came the words that shattered the careful web I’d spun. “Is someone out there… waiting for me?”

“I can do that. Send me the invitation.” I hung up and looked out the window again. This city bowed at my feet. The whole world was waiting to be conquered. Five years of pain and waiting, all for this. It was worth it.

I looked up at him pissed. "YOU TOOK MY MEMORIES!" How could he do that? Memories are what make you who you are. I needed them back. I needed to understand what my past was like. Was it too late to get them back? Tears were now flowing down my cheek. "Can you please give them back!? I need them. They make me who I am! Please Anthony! Please?" I fell to my knees, my hands holding his. I was begging for them back. It had been difficult not having my memories, but I had no clue I longed for them back this much. The idea that he took them made me mad, but the idea that he could give them back gave me hope too.

It is a beginning shaped like an ending and I have been building toward it since a wrong elevator floor and a wolf who bowed before I saw a face and I am almost there. Almost. Four more minutes at the end of six hours. I can wait four minutes. I have waited eight years.

For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I feel whole. Complete. THE END.

That night, after calmly arranging his affairs, I took sleeping pills and lay down next to him. “I’ll be with you soon.” When I opened my eyes again, there was a blinding white light. “Are you okay?” I shot upright and realized I was leaning over my desk. The girl next to me was wiping tears from her cheeks, choking on her sobs. “Emma just went off with Callum. Ugh, finally, love triumphs over everything.” My eyes widened as I looked down at the novel in front of me. It was open to the chapter titled “Please Wait for Me.” The illustration showed him holding my hand, standing by the sea, supporting each other through life.

And considered replying. Because while part of my life had just ended, another part was quietly waiting. Patiently. Without pressure. Without expectations. Just waiting until I was ready. And somehow, that meant everything.

I stayed there for a long while, kneeling by her side, holding her hand lightly, and waiting. Waiting had been my life for years. Waiting for acceptance, waiting for recognition, waiting for her to love me. And though the waiting never seemed to end, I could not stop. I would keep coming, keep speaking, keep kneeling here, because she was my mother. And even if she could not see it now, I hoped one day she might.

I answer him. Apart from me, who could describe how difficult and disappointing waiting could be. Who could describe how disappointing and tiring waiting could be? But even after waiting for so long, I had never given hope. Even after it was tiring like hell, I had never given up on him. But I don't what has my waiting brought upon me. Whether it has brought me happiness or is it the disappointment that I am not being able to describe at all. "Have you ever waited for someone?" he asks me.