Property of a Mistake

Entry #6

“ 'For a while' is a phrase whose length can't be measured. At least by the person who's waiting.”    ~Haruki Murakami

Dear Diary, 

It's been a few weeks. Mom improved a lot. Now, I'm sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting. I'm waiting for the doctor to come out and tell me I can go see my mom. Or maybe he will come out, and say she's dead. I hope it's the first. I really do hope so. 

I hate waiting. I've waited in this room a few other times. It's boring chairs, wite walls, and stressed people don't give me much to think about. Especially since the only thing that seems to be on my mind is my mom. Waiting gives me this sort of feeling. Usually you have to wait for the unknown. I don't like that. I wish I could see the future. I wish I could see me in the future, and my mom. Is she going to be okay?

I don't know.

Sincerely ~Me

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