**Another possible beginning to Her story.
She was constantly waiting.
Waiting for a bomb to drop, waiting for the chaos to begin, waiting for the moment when waiting ultimately never mattered and, as one, the earth ceased to breath, ever particle of matter just waiting all the while.
More relatably, she waited for her boyfriend to propose to her for 4 impatient years. She waited for her ovaries to decide to work and start her family for 6 excruciating years. And, above all, she waited for her family to understand and act upon her ‘very real’ fears for 10 terrifying years.
She got stuck in a rut like this once before, a time in which she was waiting, and it didn’t end well. She waited as a child for something she once had become obsessed with. Death. She became overwhelmingly clingy, anxious, and physically ill with thoughts and misunderstandings of our mortality, something most kids probably do go through at one point or another, in one scale or another.
Her problem with waiting all the time, besides undeniable and very clear impatience, was the fact that she always had this unbelievably strong urge to assume the worst in people and situations. She was literally waiting, if not willing, for something bad to happen each and every day.
It didn’t help, of course, that, as you can know see, she was right.
One day, after many, many years of waiting, it all came crashing down around her. She was done waiting, finally, and it wasn’t a relief at all. Ending the waiting was the farthest thing from relief, or even slightly-okay-feelings, that she could have possibly imagined. Ending the wait was hell.