What are the feels when you give away your most prized possession?

How are the insides of your body, every second, every minute, every hour, of EVERY SINGLE DAY?

How do you cope, knowing someone is out there, casting a seriously discerning eye over your soul’s work, while you are there…

Alone. Wondering. Waiting.

If you aren’t a writer, here are some other-worldly scenarios that you might be able to relate to.

WAITING FOR FEEDBACK…

It’s like getting to the train station on time, but the train leaves as you reach the platform.

It’s waiting all night for dessert, but then you throw up, and everyone else eats the cake anyway.

It’s giving someone your newborn child… and then they don’t call to tell you how the baby is going. And then they leave the country.

It’s having your arm hanging out the window of a fast car, flailing about wildly, and the driver won’t slow down no matter how loud you scream.

It’s someone taking the last bite of your favourite meal. Without asking.

It’s calling someone repeatedly on their phone, but only getting through to their voicemail.

It’s the ellipses (…) being a permanent part of your every day life.

But finally, waiting for feedback is like being in a seemingly unending lockdown that has no definite end date.

Waiting. Just waiting.

Hold on… 🤔

(Inspired by life, but not intended for anyone in my life… I promise 😉 )