“You know, I wouldn’t have done this a month ago. I wouldn’t have done it then. Then I was avoiding. Now I’m just waiting. Things happen to me. They do. They have to go ahead and happen. You watch – you wait… Things still happen here and something is waiting to happen to me. I can tell. Recently my life feels like a bloodcurdling joke. Recently my life has taken on *form* Something is waiting. I am waiting. Soon, it will stop waiting – any day now. Awful things can happen any time. This is the awful thing.”

“Waiting required a future to wait for: a falsehood. I know now that there is only now. I remember things that happened months (or what is years?) ago: old -worn-out nows. The future happens, but it is always shaped from a series of nows.”

“In times of grief, you're waiting for something to happen, but the thing you're waiting for has already taken place.”

“I had to do something," she said. "I couldn't just sit and wait for life to happen to me any longer.”

“Then I thought, boy, isn't that just typical? You wait and wait and wait for something, and then when it happens, you feel sad.”

“For one day there will be nothing left, yet we will have something. -me-I tried to wait for my life to begin. Something has to happen. Like an amazing boy. I know he's out there. I just have to find him.”