Waiting

Story of my life: all dressed up and nowhere to go. I’m always expecting something that never happens, waiting and wondering what’s wrong with me. What IS wrong with me? Why is there so much stubborn, stupid hope fighting inside me and sabotaging my happiness? But I guess the expectation keeps me alive sometimes, holds me up when all my heart can do is fall. Because if I didn’t anticipate being seen and appreciated by somebody, I think I would cease being, fade into oblivion, fade like mist in the sunlight.