The Wishing.

Staring longingly at the food we wanted to eat half an hour ago. That number hasn't come down yet. Correction? Walk? Failed site? Time? When will I finally get to eat?

Waiting.

This could be the results of years with diabetes, or maybe it was one of the other conditions, or maybe it's genes, or maybe it's dumb luck. What do I do now? How do I know what the right answers for me are? Do other people feel this way, too? How many other people are going through this and not talking about it?

Wondering.

I don't know what this means for my future. What do I try? What have others done? What effect will this have on me; on the ones I love? Am I stuck on this path, or can I alter it? Will what I decide make any difference in my outcomes? Is this giving up? Am I doing everything I can? Giving it my best?

Worrying.

I never wanted this; not for me, not for you. No one should have to do this alone. I want to fast-forward to the day this gets plucked away, like petals from a flower.

Wishing.

At times, it feels like that's all this is - waiting; wondering; worrying.

What pulls me out is hope. The sharing; the bond. The reminder that life doesn't operate on anyone else's timeline, and negativity won't bring it to now any faster.

But the last? The last I'll keep. I'll keep the wishing.

For me, for you.