Nervously

Every year when I see Josh (the EST one), it is the same, in a more or less vague sort of way. To quote the Pet Shop Boys (and what else would one do?):

We don't talk of love
We're much too shy
But nervously we wonder when and why ...

Your flashing eyes and sudden smiles
Are never quite at ease, and neither am I

Oh, we'll talk about it all some night
But nervously we never get it
Right

It takes a long time to get some things right. Being able to think, "Okay, maybe this'll make sense next year, if I live that long": this is a sign that one is an adult, or even a grown-up. It's a benign flipside to the truth of what comma said growing up is: learning that sometimes you will cry and there will be no solace.

Nervously we wonder ...