@farzanzare.eth
Patience was never a virtue you chose; it was a cage built from the shortages of your life. When your hands are empty and the things you desperately want remain just out of reach, waiting becomes the only currency you have left to spend.
You had to be patient because there was no other move to make, forced to stand on the shoreline of your own desires, watching what you couldn't grasp drift further away. You quieted your hunger simply to survive the drought, turning your restraint into a shield against the heavy, hollow spaces where your life should have been full.
But that forced waiting is a slow-acting poison, and it killed you over and over. Every time you stood perfectly still, waiting for the world to catch up to your needs or for the barren soil to finally bloom, you were slowly suffocating under the weight of a hope you couldn't afford to lose. You didn't just wait; you withered in place.