sucking up the waiting game

I’m nauseous. After four days of not hearing from HWMNBN, I’d nearly decided that he wasn’t going to respond after all. That either his feelings shifted from lack of love to loathing or that he wasn’t as genuine and kind as I believed (which isn’t true). I heard from him tonight. He’d just returned from Mexico. We are going to meet. Not sure when yet, I gave him options of tomorrow or Monday.
Now, more waiting. The thought of seeing him is terrifying, and, sickly, like a fucking-moronic-school-girl, wonderful to simply be in his presence again for a moment. Sublime torture. I know, I know. I can’t stand me either.
Despite the conflicting emotions and the raging nerves, there’s also a sweet anticipation of knowing it will soon be over soon. Sure, the next step is scary too—actually going places where he might be and starting to be around friends again, but I think it is the step I have to take to begin living once more. Even if life can’t be like it was, surely it can be more like life than it is now. I’m fighting desperately for my books. I need to fight a little harder for me. It’s time. Ready to get the first step over and done.