Chapter 6 - Waiting.

Every morning,
I am waiting.

Every morning,
From the darkness after dawn
Until the clouds break apart,
I am waiting.

Every morning,
As the moon slowly sinks
And the sun rises high,
I am waiting.

Every morning,
His golden glow edging closer
And my thoughts about to become reality,
I wait for him.



  He was talking to me every day. Every day. I had finally started to get somewhere with my once seemingly impossible plan.

  I was not sure however of where this gold-paved road would take me, but I was happy to get where I had got to so far. I would not be giving up just yet though. I would still strive to achieve my goal, without erasing what had already become of it. And when I had got there, I would finally be able to feel free, having what I wanted by getting there myself, and feeling proud of my achievement.

  I continued to speak to him every lunchtime. Music, poetry, art...there were so many things we could discuss. Our lives at school, and our lives at home. I felt like I could actually talk to him about things I may have otherwise kept disclosed at some time.

  I had become fairly close with his friends as well. I felt a slight tinge of jealousy towards them, as they had been able to spend so much time with him, but generally they were a nice group of people and we got on well.

  This lunch time, however, was different. He had come in late from his previous lesson, throwing his bag lightly on the table and sitting on the floor near where I was situated. He flicked his hair to the left and studied the class, before focusing on me and the rest of his friends.

  “You guys around this weekend?”

  I looked up, my hopes slowly rising. This sounded to me like a request. A request I desperately wanted to accept.

  “I’m around if you guys are!”

I hope that didn’t sound too enthusiastic. I don’t want to appear desperate to be in his company.


  He paused. I waited. Waited for any sort of proposal he was going to make that I could possibly become involved in.

  “Well I was just wondering, really.”

  I was disappointed. And slightly confused. Was he being vague about something he didn’t want to mention, or did he really not have a reason for asking?

  I gave him a look, almost threatening, but subtly flirtatious, as if to ask why he would mention such a thing without giving all the details away.

  A look I wouldn’t have been able to give him had I not got this far. I silently praised myself for this.

  He looked back at me, slightly surprised at my look, but also with occupied intention in his eyes.

  He sighed. “...There might be something coming up...”

  “Ohh, like what?” His friends were as inquisitive as I was, but most probably for different reasons.

  “Maybe not definitely, I’m not sure if it’s actually happening yet.”

  “Well, what is it?”

  “If it actually happens, then I might be having a gathering of some sort...Just a few people, over for the evening, but I’m not sure whether anything will happen yet.”

  My mind suddenly started drifting to all the possibilities that might happen while this ‘gathering of sorts’ was in progress. I, with my other friends included, and maybe even some people I didn’t know, were going over his house. His actual house, where I had never wandered before, would be soon occupied by not only him, but me as well. I would be inside his haven of safety, his physical representation of his memories and experiences. It would be like setting foot into his mind, being able to see where he lived, what he did, and who he resided with. I could paint such a picture from it, really learn something about him. And of course, I would be conversing with him, spending the entire evening with him. I didn’t know whether this evening ran through until morning, but whether it did or not, it would be the first chance to see what he was like out of college. The real him. The untarnished version of himself, free and under no pressure from college to ‘be his best’. I could finally see him as himself, and he could see the real me. I was hoping to god that it would happen, that I would get to move another step closer to reaching my goal.


   He came in the next day and I was unable to hold in my enquiry as to whether the gathering he had talked of the day before would actually be happening. As he sat down, I shuffled beside him, and said hello, before moving onto the subject.

  “So, do you know if it will happen yet?”

  “If what will happen?”

  “You know, the gathering. The one you mentioned yesterday?”

  “Ohh, that...Well, I don’t really know yet. Sorry. “

  He looked slightly disappointed as he saw my face turn from eagerness to slight frustration. I wanted to find out, so I could know if I had such a chance ahead of me.

  “Look, I’ll try and find out tonight, okay?” He smiled his soft, sweet smile and me, and I sighed accidentally, pulling my hand to my mouth to disguise it as a yawn. Appearing love-dazed was probably not the best of ideas, especially not in such a crowded environment.

  I left him after that, and returned to my bags. They were heavy, and one of the plastic ones had a rip in the underside that I had not noticed up until now. I picked it up in my arms, almost cradling it, and set off for wherever I was supposed to be next, trying to hide my frustration at the answer I hadn’t got.


  Painting is a hard thing to do when you cannot fully concentrate. When your mind is filled with good and bad, hope and disappointment, excitement and frustration. When, however much you try and block him out, he is always there in the mind, refusing to move.

  I was moving the paintbrush, over my canvas, but no sense would come of it. I could only think of the potential gathering, and what would happen if it was to be held. I was excited for if it did, but also worrying about the possible disappointment. The thought of being able to spend so much time with him outside of college seemed such an opportunity. I was looking forward to it already.

  Thinking about it positively gave me a burst of encouragement towards my painting, and I painted a couple more boats into my seascape scene. I would rather have been painting him; a portrait of his face, right down to the detail, showing the soft red and warm brown tones in his hair, the bright and clear blue tones of his eyes, and the paleness of his face, shown within his angular facial features, and scruffy outline of his hair. He would be looking into the distance; not directly into the viewer’s eyes but more to the side, as if distracted by something far more interesting to him. To any other viewer they may feel insulted by such a lack of attention from the subject, but I knew really he would be just lost in his thoughts, focusing in on certain parts and studying them in great detail, ignoring the viewer simply because he could not extract himself from his mind. He was like me in a way – always thinking, losing himself far from reality, never fully concentrating on the world around him. I believed this to be a good thing, and thought some more about how we would be like if we were together, and what would come of it. I was sure it would all be positive. We would mix well, becoming one between the two of us. That was what I wanted.


  Two days after, I was ready to pounce on him again, to find out what would be happening tomorrow, the Saturday of the weekend. He had left things to the last minute, as he seemed inclined to do with most things. He had not come into college the day before, which had again increased the frustration inside me of not knowing, but he was back again now, and I asked him why he had been away before pressing the matter of the gathering.

  “I was ill, really.” His responses were blunt, yet vague at the same time. He had got to the point without actually telling me. I loved the way he could twist words round and articulate his speech to cause confusion, or imply different meanings to what he was saying. I was in awe at the power he had using language and debate. I would never know whether he had power or control over me, yet I guessed that currently he did, whether he was aware of it or not.

  “How come?”

  “I just didn’t really feel like I could come in. Headache, nausea, that sort of thing.”

  “So...”I changed the subject, determined to find out the answer to the question I really wanted to know the answer to. “Found out about tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, I have, actually.”

  “What is it then?”

  “What? The answer?” He was teasing me, and he knew it was winding me up.

  “Of course I mean the answer, you idiot.” I laughed, and he laughed back, obviously enjoying seeing me so riled.

  He joked around again. “Oh, the answer! I didn’t realise you meant that!”

  “Just tell me already!”

  “Okay, okay...I can.”

  He smiled. I jumped up and down, and, seeing his face look slightly puzzled at my unexpected reaction, I stood up normally and cleared my throat, attempting to dismiss my out of control manner.

  “Who’s going?”

  “All you guys and a couple of other people from out of college, I guess.”

  I’d never thought of his other friends outside of college. Which was silly, really, as most people did have. But, he seemed so fitting within college that I guess it had never occurred to me that he might have any sort of social life outside of it.

  “Cool, what time?”

  “7 until 11, I reckon. Possibly later, depending on how it turns out.”

  I smiled at him. He smiled back. Like he meant it.

  “Okay, I’ll see you there.”

  “Yeah. I’d like that.”

  He turned and walked away, to discuss the gathering with our other friends. I smiled to myself, and picked up my bags, walking towards the door. He’d like that. He’d like me to be there. He actually wanted me there, and I was going to make sure it stayed that way.

The End

2 comments about this poem Feed