Waiting On Someone Quotes Novels & Stories

Elita Once again in life, I am forced to realize that waiting is the hardest thing to do. Waiting for someone is like dragging your body over a bed of nails. It is slow. It is painful. It does not kill, but it leaves me writhing. Time stretches, moving too slow, making every breath feel heavy, every heartbeat feel too slow. The worst part of it? Not knowing if they are even coming back, or if I am waiting for nothing, or if I should do something instead of just…sitting around and waiting.

Waiting for the work to finish. Ready for the life to start.

Waiting for something. Anything.

The waiter led them to a table by the large transparent window, offering a stunning view of the cityscape. The four of them took their seats, with an extra chair remaining vacant. Danial, ever curious, glanced at Maria and casually asked, "Is there anyone you are waiting for, Maria?" Maria smiled mysteriously and replied, "Yes, I am waiting for someone."

She can’t circumvent the Goddess’ wishes. I check my phone and see that I’d been waiting for about an hour. It’s easy to lose track of time when you are engrossed in social media. The things that people post online for public consumption can be mind-boggling. I wonder what’s taking Mom so long to meet with me. Mom? Are you okay? Uh….hey Tia. I….I’m fine. Where are you? I’ve been waiting.

She deserved someone who would reassure her, hold her, tell her she wasn’t small. I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t be that man for her. But the thought of someone else being that man no, not yet. Not now. Not ever, if I could help it. The rain finally began light at first, then heavier. It soaked the windows, streaked the city, turning everything outside into blurred lights and moving shadows. My phone buzzed again. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Part of me was waiting. Waiting for her. Waiting for something from her, even a single message, a single word. Anything. But nothing came. That silence felt louder than any rejection.

I muttered, growing increasingly anxious. Returning to the coffee shop, I couldn't hide my concern from the barista, who noticed my troubled expression. "Is everything alright?" the barista asked, genuine concern in their voice. I hesitated for a moment before sharing, "I'm just waiting for Damien, but he's not answering. I'm getting really worried." The barista offered a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight of my uncertainty. As I continued to wait, the minutes felt like an eternity. I contemplated reaching out to mutual friends, desperately trying to piece together Damien's whereabouts. My worry deepened, and I whispered, "Please, Damien, just let me know you're okay."

"It is done." The waiting is the hardest part. Every notification makes my heart jump, and every email feels monumental. "Stop staring at your phone," Renlo tells me. "I cannot help it." "They will respond when they respond." "And if they do not?" "Then we try again." I nod, but deep down, I want this one.

Waiting for a message that's never going to come. From a woman who's already gone.

Her thoughts whirled, trapped in a maze of apprehension and self-doubt. The anticipation of Reid's response gnawed at her, the weight of her decision sitting heavily on her chest. Bella stared at her phone, waiting anxiously for any sign of a reply, hoping that maybe he would understand or give her another chance. The minutes stretched into an agonizing wait, leaving her on edge, wondering what repercussions her message might have on their fragile connection.