There must have been times in your life when you have felt disappointment. It could be disappointment brought on by something which you had expected to have but fell through in the end, by thoughtlessness, angry words, complete inaction and indifference, the job which you expected to get but which went to someone else instead, whatever. The thing is, disappointment is always preceded by expectations.
Are we right to have some sort of expectations in life? Or are expectations setting ourselves up for something which we might not be able to fulfill? Or rather, are we placing ourselves and our hopes on a pedestal which the people around us cannot reach?
Three times today, I was left feeling disappointed by three different people. It wasn’t so much of anger or annoyance, but just plain….well, disappointment that plans fell through and that people didn’t seem to realise how much certain things meant to me. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a niggling doubt about myself, wondering if my expectations were too high or if I were less than understanding. It was a conflict of differing emotions and rational thoughts, a somewhat pointless debate but one which raged in my head for a while before I called for a time out.
Instead, I holed myself up in my house, bought a sinful dinner of Long John’s Silver since mum was out, and stayed glued to the television. I rented DVDs and watched some good ‘ol Sex and the City as well as My Best Friend’s Wedding, which is one of my all-time favourites incidentally. Memories of a certain someone came back to me, someone who had made a pact with me for us to get married at the age of 30 should both of us still be single then, just like in the movie. Only now, we have lost touch and I don’t know where he is now, or how he is. I remembered the good times we shared together, the fun and laughter that we had enjoyed together as close friends, the long conversations we used to have on the telephone. But in the end, everything fell apart and to say that I was disappointed is a huge understatement. And then I remembered the tears.
But in the end, I realised that it was a good thing we never ended up together. Because when I saw him later through the eyes of a 20-year-old, as opposed to a young JC student, it hit me then that we would never have been happy together. Maybe it was the expectation that something would happen that made it all the more difficult to live through the heartbreak.
It’s probably too hard for different people to come together and reach a compromise when it comes to expectations. But is it really that hard?
I’m not quite sure. Maybe it’s because I build up my own expectations to a level which is too high for everyone else’s taste. My favourite Christmas eve was spent stuck in a jam, in a car and I had a lot of fun then. I just wish I could relive that sort of innocence and freedom, once again.