There’s a very interesting lesson you can learn if you pay attention. If you’re an average looking eighteen year-old girl with a few friends and a few mistakes.
Or if you’re anyone else at all. Other than a superhero, a celebrity, a person with a lot of money, or a hermit.
If you sit back and listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of disappointment. Oh wait, I take that back. Everyone can hear it, save for the people who have stopped expecting things, hoping for things, dreaming of things etc.
It’s everywhere, and incredibly prevalent in everyone’s every day lives. It’s one of those things that can be as tall as a mountain or as tiny and a flea. It can start as you noticing that your best friend took three hours to text you back about plans that were supposed to happen two hours ago, and end up as you noticing that your fiance has taken the car, siphoned all the money out of your bank account, and sold your house.
It can be crying over spilled milk, or sobbing as you wake up in the hospital without your legs. Any way, no matter what the situation, a million tiny (or very large) violins will begin playing for you, and it will be the sad, bitter tune of disappointment.
What can you do when you’ve been disappointed? Do you get up and move on, or do you cling to it? How many times is enough times to be disappointed by someone, something, or yourself?
How many chances should people get to prove that they are reliable, or good friends, or anything?
I guess other people are wondering that as well, and using me as a test subject. I guess that’s why we’re not supposed to stay up cashing in our bad luck, eh? Because for me, I always blame this on myself.
Oh, he bailed on me because I’m not interesting enough. I must be so boring that after seeing me, he cries himself to sleep.
Oh, well, it’s okay that they decided to go to that last-minute party instead of hanging out with me. Maybe if I had thrown a party, or simply thrown money at them, they would have reconsidered.
Oh, no, don’t worry about me. I made backup plans because I knew you weren’t going to pull through. It’s my fault, forgive me?
When am I going to tire of this sado-masochistic tendency of mine to actually expect things from people? It’s no good. It will just end up getting me hurt.
Oh wait, I already am.