There’s something especially cutting about the pain of disappointment. It’s rarely expected—it sneaks up on you and attacks at the moment you are weakest. It’s a stab wound that persists and persists until you wonder how it possibly has not healed yet. This pain can be pushed away—but only temporarily. It is triggered by the slightest reminder that something has changed, or is lost—that something made you scream with anger and cry in frustration. Treatment for this kind of wound includes something, or someone, that isn’t disappointing, surrounding you at all times, confirming that something stays stable. We only need one thing, really, to stay stable.
What is it about stability and change that makes disappointment the worst pain of them all? The cause of extreme disappointment is a grand letdown. Something you expected to happen does not; something you expected someone to do or some way you expected someone to be does not occur. Something does not happen the way you wanted it to happen. Change is inevitable but it is the one thing that seems to torture us all the most. It is horrible, and no one wants it to happen. But people arrive in our lives only to disappear at a moment’s notice; plans change at the drop of a hat when we least expect it. How do we plan to survive in a world of change if we hate it so much and suffer from disappointment so greatly?
I am extraordinarily tired, sad, and discouraged because of horrible, horrible disappointment. I don’t really know where to go from here. I wonder how to fully trust a friend again, because it seems I no longer can. Everyone wears apathy and selfishness on them like it’s the latest fashion, while I’m walking around with a very, very tattered sweater of trust. I think I’m going to take it off and wear something else for awhile.