The very first sensation I consciously experience every morning is blood beating in my eardrums. When I was young, I was convinced that the rhythmic pulsing was an army of ants marching across my pillow and into my ear canals, circling inside my skull. I pictured the ants so often and in such detail that the scene seems more like a memory rather than childhood imagination. I have never really relied on morning alarms because I somehow manage to wake up before it goes off every time without fail, no matter how many hours of sleep I get or what time I set it at. Once awake, I lie and wait for it to ring while The Ants march their infinite circuit. It's not even an enjoyable time of rest... aside from the fucking laser beam formed by the gap in my blinds which fires directly into my eyes no matter how I position my face, the anticipation of waiting for the alarm to sound and the day having to begin leaves me restless and annoyed to have woken up at all.
In my eyes, the romance in waiting comes in two ways, although often times one Wait contains the effects of both--
slow and miserable,
or
soft and quiet.
There's romance in waiting for the wrong person to love you back, for a veggie garden you sowed and reaped no veggies, for an apology or a text back, for a sign or reason to get up in the morning, because the misery means you care. But of course you still feel the unbearable weight of wasting time, because
time is so precious, and you use it to do nothing, to wait,
while your friend ties their shoe and your lover boils some water and your dog sniffs the grass and you stand first in line and your mother adjusts the seat because dad drove the car earlier and a child reads out a word incorrectly again and again and an old man navigates toward at the train doors because waiting is romantic.
The way you value your Waits is the way you value yourself is the way you value the people you love and the people you don't. This is not a new idea but one I need constant reminding of nonetheless. The Ants will march anyway. The Ants will march anyway.
