How much is enough?

I was told that one of the most serious mistakes I make is that I expect immediate results to my actions. That is quite a precise diagnose. I do and it IS a mistake. Like, I send a text message and I expect an answer right away, right now. It's maybe because lately whatever I do is in a way an act of desperation and when it goes unnoticed I rush to jump to egocentric selfish conclusions that, of course, can only worsen the way I feel. And when eventually the reply comes it's too late-the poisoning is already in process and the antidote is useless. Maybe it's because I'm out of patience; maybe it's because I'm running out of time. I'm just sick, sick, sick with waiting. Right now I'm more confused than ever before.

What is the truth? The truth changes every day, a few times a day. Sometimes I find myself all covered in light and then it feels great, I feel invulnerable; in those moments I want to and I do reach to all the people that are dear to me to let them know how much they matter, to share that light with them because it would be such a shame that light to go unused and just fade away. And sometimes darkness embraces me, swallows me in its womb, chains my hands and feet and I feel absolutely helpless; I can't move, I can't think and all I sense is the absence of light. I reflect light. When there's no source, there's no reflection.

I have so many reasons to be grateful for the life I have. Why isn't that enough?

Some days I scare myself. I have the potential to do well; it's in my nature to be good to people; why can't I be good to myself?

And yet there's one fact, one universal fact that I can't deny and it is that life can surprise you and lend you a helping hand when you least expect. It has happened before; it will happen again. Patience is a virtue.

Sometimes a few words are just enough.