The hardest part is waiting. I wait and hope and try hard to be still, when all I want to do is pace or bite my nails or tap my foot on the floor – or run away. There’s no one to talk with or yell at or listen to. It’s just me. I’m all alone and waiting. I’ve already prepared for the worst, yet it never comes. Nothing comes. No tears, no laughter, no conversation. No thing and no one. I wait in silence. I can’t even hear my digital clock tick away the seconds. I can’t hear the noise of the air conditioner or a refrigerator. I hear – nothing but my heartbeat and between beats, I can’t hear a single, solitary sound. Not hearing may be worse than waiting or not knowing. It’s all bad. But waiting in silence is the worst. I wait and wait. Eventually, I fall asleep and sometime during the night, it happens. I don’t know how or when, but I pull my earplugs out and knock the mask off my eyes, so in the morning, the sunrise awakens me, moments before my alarm rings.