The Waiting Room

Do you ever replay a song over and over to the point where the meaning of the song starts to change?

“Alexa, please play ‘Oceans’ by Seafret.”

You see, I’ve played this song many times before. It always makes me think of a certain person I care deeply for. Those feelings haven’t changed, but a new feeling has bubbled to the surface. One of longing – for myself.

Since the start of this year, I’ve felt as though I’ve been split in two and neither side is communicating with one another. This division is pulling me in different directions and my conscious self is impatient. The further I’m pulled apart, the more the warning bells and lights go off as if it to say, “Wrong way! Turn around! This is a dead end.”

Life pulls us apart in order to bring us back to ourselves – our true authentic self and not the bullshit version we parade around to appear more palatable to strangers, to coworkers, or even our Aunt Cindy who loves to dole out backhanded compliments during every holiday gathering. I’m sure you can tell that I am the fun one at family parties.

I am realizing a lot of what I’ve wanted for myself isn’t actually the direction I’m headed. The road map and route becomes more clear with each passing day. It’s terrifying, but it cracks me open so beautifully the more I sit and observe in this in-between place. The Waiting Room.

The reality is there is no rush and the parts of me that are divided will find there way back to each other.

So, I will take refuge in the Waiting Room and settle in to watch what unfolds, take comfort in the fact that what is lost will again be found. I look forward to meeting version 7.0 of myself. Let’s hope she has better taste in men and a stronger internal compass.

Until Then.

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