A place where I can live, breathe, talk and see

Pardon me if there’s an improper grammatical use in the above title, but that described exactly what I felt.

I’ve been anxiously waiting for his call for 1.5 hours, since 20.30. His body clock used to be very punctual, and he always slept at 22.00, so I think it’s pretty reasonable for me to worry where the hell is he at that hour, when he must’ve been very sleepy..

Each time passes I get worried even more. Why hadn’t he called? Is there something happened to him? What if he lied and instead of having a dinner feast with his office buddies he could’ve been having dinner with a girl or something? And my horribly creative minds are starting to generate plots and stories.. And I’m getting more and more worried…

I hate waiting. That’s for sure. But what I hate more is to wait without any certainty.

I was suffocated by my own thoughts and fears. And it’s so terribly poisoning that I could barely think clear. Or probably I was just sick of keep on using my reasons and wanted to dwell in what my heart has to say..

I don’t know probably I was just over-reacting or being childish. But you know what I really really wanted to hear?

I wanted to hear him say sorry for keeping me waiting, I want him to apologize for making me worried, and for all the tears I’ve shed..

Furthermore, I want him to pat my head, hold my hands, kiss my forehead and whispers that he’s sorry and he’ll never do that again..

But I think it’s just will never happen..