A disappointing paradox


Disappointment. Sometimes that word becomes a wet blanket I have to tug around. Although this blanket was once warm and lent a feeling of security, it is now dank, cold, wet and heavy. Where there used to be an air of freshness, it now reeks of rot. Wrapped around my shoulders, the weight is almost impossible to shake off.

I trust very easily. I set my bar high. I am under the constant assumption that everyone is like me in spirit. I am open and light. I see the good always before the bad. Even when the bad starts seeping in, I barely glance at it. Like an ostrich, the underground is so safe.

I have been disappointed by people my whole life. An absent parent who prefers the absence. The appeal is not to forge a relationship but to avoid it as much as possible. Scattering bits of love and want sporadically around, leaving me wanting. Finally feeling the failure of expectations like a blow. Learning and leaving.

I have had minor disappointments in casual areas of my life. nondescript movies, books, songs. You look forward to the chance at tasting, smelling, listening and then, nothing. Those are the ‘oh, wells’ you live with and can look back on with discernment and dismissal.

Friends and lovers are different, aren’t they? With the disappointment often comes rejection, feelings of failure, inadequacies. We seek in our selves the answers. What if? Could I? Should I? Would I? The answer in a paradox. People disappoint. Loyalty is for the open-hearted. Selfless not selfish. Light not dark. Truth not betrayal.

I seek like-minded people. That is only my perception. I make your acquaintance and I wonder if we might be friends? Lovers? Soul mates? I follow your lead and I am always secure at first. Then the shadow of a truth bleeds in. Whisk it away. No matter here. But it keeps bleeding. No bandage can absorb all the lies. Eventually I am faced with a wound too deep to stitch.

I am disappointed in many people. I may disappoint myself. However, I will always try. That’s what we do, we keepers of the faith. We try again. We wipe our wounds and soothe our souls and begin again. I still search for like-minded people. When you find one, you hold on with all you have. They are who become your life.

One thought on “A disappointing paradox

  1. That’s why book characters are so satisfying. They think “out loud” and so there’s conversation without misunderstanding… Without books, porquepines like myself would be so very lonely.

    Liked by 1 person

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