as we wait in the interim

As an intelligent, twenty something woman, I feel that I am always waiting. For the good job, good boyfriend, good completion of the life I recognize as incomplete. I know, I am privileged. I mean, my day yesterday was comprised of making popsicles then going to get a burger. And yet, I want more.  I have come to realize, despite my feminist bravado, I am searching for the one. I want the fulfilling relationship. I don’t want the stupid nonsense right now. Even though it is better than nothing. Regardless, it is not worth it. The emptiness. The rejection. The fear. It is the worst. In spite of such things, we do it. The in between. The mediocre. The not quite what we want. And we convince ourselves that this is ok. In fact, great. What a great use of time. Until the hollowness consumes us and we are but a shell of ourselves.  Why do we decide that mediocre is ok. That we are willing to in essence, waste our time with the worthless. The stupid. The inarticulate. Those who do not get our best parts. I think it is  because we are bored. Or more precisely, tired of waiting. Waiting is just the worst. And as twenty year olds we get restless. So we say bring on the everybody. Until they come. And then we get bored. And turn them away. because they are the worst.