Beckett on my Mind

These days I feel like I am caught--no, trapped--in a Samuel Beckett play. Specifically Waiting for Godot. In case you're not familiar with it, it's a story of two men who spend the entire play waiting for this guy named Godot who is supposedly an acquaintance. The problem is that they aren't sure they'd recognize him if he walked by and even though one of them wants to leave, he's told that he can't until Godot arrives. The two spend the play rambling about Biblical and philosophical matters to pass the time. Godot never arrives.

This is my scenario. I am waiting for my own Godot. I cannot do much of anything until he arrives, I wouldn't recognize him if I saw him on the street yet I feel like I know him quite well. Of course, late at night when I can't sleep, I ponder my existence, his existence and our intertwined destinies though we've never met. He has yet to arrive.

I hope my story ends differently than Beckett's...being pregnant for the rest of my life would be tough.