White Nights

On the direction of waiting

Nastenka waits for a man who exists outside her. Her waiting is attached to a person, a past, and a possible return. It hurts, but it is real, because it is tethered to the world, and the world eventually responds one way or another. Even disappointment is an answer. When her waiting ends, it ends decisively, with closure, because the object of waiting was always external to her.

The dreamer’s waiting is different. He is not waiting for a person. He is waiting for himself, for a version of himself that can be chosen without having to choose first. His waiting faces inward, so it has no natural endpoint. Nothing outside him needs to happen for it to continue. When it ends, it does not resolve, it collapses back into him, leaving him richer in feeling and heavier in memory.