The Meaning of Patience

I sort of made an idiot of myself, as I mentioned yesterday, and I was thinking some today about how stupid I really made myself, and to a certain extent, somewhat shallow....for lack of a better word.

I realized today that part of saying that I'm going to be willing to wait means that I have to do it with a spirit of charity, not of impatience. There's an element that says it's good to do the right thing--i.e. waiting in every sense of the word. There is no way that I'm willing to let another man interfere with the commitment that I'm willing to make here. I've had a few less than virtuous offers in the last weeks, but I refuse to give in on those accounts, because I realized why I always heard that it's a good idea to wait. If he finally realizes what is in front of him (i.e., me) had decides that I'm worth risking, and that he is too, it would be amazing.

My attitude has to dictate how I'm going to wait these weeks or even months (hopefully not years). Each day that goes by is one less day I have to wait, to wait to hear his voice again, to wait to see him, and hopefully for him to take the chance on me. I don't have to do it with a hover of fear, as I have. I've been afraid that by trying to do the right thing, I'll end up getting burned, and that's the completely wrong way of taking it.

The right way is to wait with hope, and to wait with confidence. In the meantime, I improve upon myself. I work hard at school, because it means that I will be able to provide better for myself and for whoever the man of my future is, whether it is Thom or not. Whenever I conjure the image of one for which I want to be able to do that, it just so happens that it's him because I like him, but consciously, I know that I want to do this for whoever out there is hopefully destined to be with me. Poor sucker.

But I'll save money, work hard, and hopefully get even better jobs than where I'm at now. In the meantime, I have to hope that his eyes are slowly realizing that I'm not like the exes who didn't treat him the right way. I have to hope he sees in me someone who could make him happy if he just let me in, the way that I have let him in for me. I have to hope he sees that the fact that I was willing to wait says something about who I am. And I do it with optimistic anticipation now, not with a pessimism typical of me. If I end up hurt because of it, then that's life. But I don't think he's the kind of man who would make me wait and then hurt me.

The meaning of patience is to stand up and to take every minute, realizing that it's one minute less of waiting, not one more minute of torture. The time I have to wait is always growing shorter. That's a good way of seeing it, I suppose.