It is here that I begin my story,
This life that is mine to live.
The shadows of anticipation recede,
Carried away upon tides of discontent.
This is the face I see in the mirror,
Lines and creases forged during my wait.
Always waiting.
For what?
Days I have lost in my quest for perfection.
Blessings ignored as I looked over my shoulder.
Always analyzing,
Never content.
And yet, I’ve still managed to reach this place.
This here and now,
In spite of myself.