days on end

ever since he was a child he had always assumed that things would eventually correct themselves; that what should happen, would, and it would be like meeting an old friend -- comforting, effortless, with a sense of familiarity, and he would finally feel at ease with himself and the world. but the expectation of things --  of himself -- finally falling into place, the expectation he had relied on since his childhood didn't seem to be fulfilled, and by the time he realized that he had given up on hope that it would ever happen, it was too late to change the premise anymore. so he stayed like that, in that constant state of waiting, even as he no longer believed in a result; and days lost their importance as something that makes no difference anymore does.