I am giddy, expectation whirls me round. The imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense.
Suspense is like a woman. The more left to the imagination, the more the excitement.
I love not knowing. It keeps me guessing.
When you're really looking forward to something, you don't feel the sense of pressure.
I wake expectant, hoping to see a new thing.
Methinks we have a clue. Be still, my heart.
My real life memory of leaving Uni is an overwhelming excitement to be going home but also a weird numbness.
But sometimes, too, you have this little feeling of knowing, this fuzzy, gnawing sense that someone will become a major something in your life. You just know that theirs will be a life you will enter and become a part of.
