Good things come to those who wait,the wall decal promises in Comic Sans,while we sit in plastic chairs designedby someone who hates the human spine.Waiting for test results. Waiting for our number.Waiting for the specialist who's running latebecause someone else's good thingcame wrapped in bad news.
Chronology of a wait:Hour one: scrolling through phones,pretending the future isn't being decidedbehind Door Number Three.Hour two: memorizing the coffee stainson the ceiling tiles, finding constellationsin water damage—there's Orion,there's the bear, there's the shipthat might carry us out of here.
The waiting room is purgatory's prototype:fluorescent lights that make everyone look dying,magazines from 2019 promising "Your Best Year Yet!"The mother across from me has been heresince sunrise. Her son needs approvalfor the surgery that might let him walk.Good things come to those who waitunless insurance finds a loophole.
I've waited in fertility clinicswhere hope costs $15,000 per attempt.Waited in unemployment officeswhere dignity goes to be processed.Waited for the phone to ringwith news about dad, about the job,about anything that might endthis suspended animation we call patience.
Here's what they don't tell you about waiting:It's not passive. It's work.It's keeping your heart rate steadywhen they call another name.It's not screaming when they say"just a few more weeks" for the third time.It's teaching yourself to breathe underwater,to live in the maybe, to furnish limbowith whatever scraps of normal you can find.
Good things come to those who wait—but sometimes bad things come too.Sometimes nothing comes at allexcept the realization that waitingis just life slowed down enoughto see clearly: we're all in the waiting roomfor something. The promotion. The diagnosis.The forgiveness. The morning we wake upfeeling like ourselves again.
The security guard locks the door at seven.Tomorrow we'll return, take our numbers,pretend to read the same magazines.Because what else is there to dobut wait? And while we wait,we might as well wait together—all of us here in the chronicle of hours,learning that good things cometo those who have no other choicebut to keep showing up.