I am succeeding, things are happening, momentum is gathering. The rusty bolt in the gate has finally succumbed to my tugging and twisting. The huge boulder which has resisted me so long is finally starting to trundle down the hill, gathering pace as I run alongside it, breathless and giddy with excitement at what lies ahead. Everything is falling into place. I can see the finish line, hear the cheering crowds. I’m that close.
Which makes these final days all the more frustrating. Everything I’ve touched of late has turned to gold yet, here I am, another Monday morning about to crawl out of bed and head to the office. It comes around so fast. I’m swamped at work but such is the reward for becoming a Big Boss. There is nowhere to hide now, no slacking or skiving. Great things are expected of me, the Bigger Bosses have said as much. Yet, still I dream.
The book deal creeps ever nearer. I check my inbox 5857 times a day. They are busy people but my already frayed patience hangs by a thread. Hurry up, can’t you see I’m straining at the leash here. I regulate my breathing, pop another happy pill and try to focus on the here and now. But I’m a dreamer, always have been, always will. I want this to happen today, now. Waiting is for mugs and I’m tired of being one.
Is today the day, the day I sign the deal that changes my life, the life of my family? Or am I just another deluded, wannabe author, building their hopes up only for them to be dashed against the rocks of anonymity and failure. Were the doubters, the mockers right all along? Am I destined to fall short and prove them right? Only time will tell, I guess. Time. What a double edged sword it is.
I’ve been beaten up and beaten down these last nine years. Nine years. Since my father died. I have the dates tattooed on my arm but I still stare at the ink in disbelief. Would he be proud of me today? My mother told me recently he always wanted to write a book himself. There were so many things he could have done, should have done. Until you took him. God works in mysterious ways. I hate that saying. I’ve had my fill of mysteries.
I’m sure he’s looking down, telling me to calm down, to remain patient, to wait. Echoing the words of my wise wife. Don’t hit self destruct, Stephen. Play the long game, one more week, that’s all it will take. They’re right, I know, but that doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. But I’ll wait, I’ll wallow, I’ll pout but I’ll swallow. I’ll get up for work and play the game. What’s one more day between friends. Or enemies, for that matter.