Impatience

Patience does not mean to passively endure. It means to look at the end of a process. What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn and see the rose, to look at the night and see the dawn. Impatience means to be shortsighted as to not be able to see the outcome. The lovers of God never run out of patience, for they know that time is needed for the crescent moon to become full.
—  Shams of Tabriz

I can’t wait for top surgery.
I can’t wait for the first moment that I’m happy with my reflection.
I can’t wait for the time I’ll never be misgendered.   
I can’t wait to be able to bathe without dysphoria.
I can’t wait to have battle scars to show the fights I’ve had to get here.
I can’t wait to never have to bind again.
I can’t wait to be topless in summer.
I can’t wait to be able to go swimming again.
I can’t wait to feel human again.
I just can’t fucking wait.

Since I was a child I loved to write, granted I’m not very good at it. However, I find myself drawn to words, the way they flow with each other and how stark they can be at times. I personally have written many stories, novels as my ten year old self called them. They were mostly fairytales, but not in the traditional way, in the vampires and werewolves, witches and goblins sort of way. The first “novel” I wrote was one about a girl named Delores (a name I loved until I read the Harry Potter book series), she was a regular girl with a vampire boyfriend and werewolf best friend who constantly fought over her. It appears I was just creating fan fiction for the Twilight series. But at the time I thought the idea was all mine own; should’ve copyrighted it. 

The second book I wrote after giving up on Delores was about a girl named Alia, it was a mystery novel (I bet you can guess how great that turned out) in a whopping total of 61 pages I managed to explain the entire backstory of this girl, murder her best friend and then find the killer. I think that’s the problem with me though, I have very little sense of time and that’s not a great trait for a storyteller to have, instead of building up suspense or even evidence for that matter, our brave protagonist, Alia walked right up to her boyfriend, Trent and said “hey. I know you killed my best friend.” and with that the boy was sent to jail and they all lived happily ever after. Not including the girl who was killed, that is. But to summarize, I am an undoubtedly and unabashedly impatient individual, I have a hard time waiting for things to happen, and if I had it my way, I would just skip to the end of the book to see how things turn out, however unfortunately you can’t live your life cutting corners.