Waiting for me?

Longing to meet me?

I’d be lucky but I guess not.

She doesn’t know me. That doesn’t matter because I am nothing to her.

Her life has been a great accomplishment not only to me but to many as well who recognize her. Although she might not be aware of that.

Her whole existence was only a natural response to the compulsion of existence and survival. Survival… that’s harsh…I bet she doesn’t want to call it that way. Because there was no other way. Was there?

But her mark was made and it was grand.

Especially the story that she carries with her.

Am I worthy to see her? We all are not.

But we are all obligated to earn that and see where time brings us to.

Am I ready?