Seeking, waiting, wishing.
by Kimberly Ang
It’s raining outside.
It’s the kind of rain that makes you feel like the only place you could be right now is in your bed with the covers to you neck, as you bask in the warm glow of the fairy lights strung across the bed frame. Patterned lights on the floor as what’s left of the sun outside spills in a gentle glow into the room, refracted by the dripping droplets of the raindrops.
I just want to hide in my room and write; read; immerse myself in another reality.
Instead I’m hiding in the office, waiting for patients to happily choose as and when they would like to come to me, trying to nurse a headache and trying my best not to sleep when ironically, this headache steams from the tiredness behind my eyes that never seems to go away. It’s a relentless tiredness that only seems to grow with passing days.
That’s the reality of growing up, that is the reality of life as it slowly eats you away.