Waiting for the other shoe to drop

It’s a state I find myself in, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It’s why I’ve been silent, why I can be distant. It’s a fear of the unknown.

When things are going good, I worry it won’t last.

Outwardly celebrating the good, inwardly worried about the bad.

Gripped with fear pulling into the hospital parking lot for a routine check-up. I don’t want to take you out of the car. I want to keep you with me where I can keep you safe.

I know you need to go inside.

I know it’s best for you.

But I want to shelter you from this.

I know that this is where you need to be, but it’s not where I want you to be.

I don’t want the other shoe to ever drop for you.

It’s my job to protect you, and I’m in constant worry that I may not be able to.

What-ifs plague my thoughts as I contemplate turning around and driving home.

Thinking that if I play out the worst case scenario, I’ll be better prepared, when the other shoe drops.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

It shouldn’t be this way.

We shouldn’t minimize the good, to hold off anything bad.

So for now, I’m living in the moment.

I’m taking life day-by-day, and I’m throwing the other shoe away.