I’m in a season of waiting. I’ve been here for a while. And I’m getting impatient.

Actually, I think I’ve passed impatience. Impatience was a spreadsheet with over one hundred job applications. Impatience was attending my twenty-third wedding without a plus one. Impatience was sobbing to my mom over the phone while sitting in my car in the dark because I was just so tired of the word no.

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