So not a virtue

I’ve often been told I have infinite patience. Ha! With my children. With my mother. But not with myself. And certainly not with others, men namely, who keep me waiting.
Suddenly minutes don’t fly by. I’m filled with lethargy and anxiety. I close my eyes and try to breathe.
“I want to sit out bad at night, a boy around my neck and the wind under my skirt. Not this way, every evening talking to the trees, leaning out my window, imagining what I can’t see.” Sandra Cisneros

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