Friday, September 17, 2004

Frozen Moments of Disappointment

My family has suffered a little disappointment today. The world will keep spinning and the sun will rise tomorrow and all that jazz but it's a disappointment all the same. We're all a little blue this evening. Dealing with the letdown has got me to thinking.

It's funny. No matter what you tell yourself when letdown is a distinct possibility, it's never without a sense of loss. I can say "I'm not going to get my hopes up...." until I'm blue in the face but let's face it: Once you start denying that your hopes are up, they're probably up whether you know it or not.

Disappointment is one emotion that I really have a hard time masking. I can put on a brave face over hurt. I can be calm or happy until it's safe to be angry or sad. I can seem strong when I'm feeling only weak. But disappointment? I wear it like a sign.

Along the same lines, I think that disappointment is also easy to sense in others. For some reason disappointment really hits home for me. As I sit here reflecting over past experiences, I can single out moments frozen in time where I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I had caused disappointment in someone I cared for. Sometimes events were beyond my control. Other times it was just absolute inconsiderate behavior on my part. It marks me. I have spent years making up for a single act of disappointment that I caused in someone. That person probably never thinks on the situation, but I do. In the grand scheme of things it was a small thing but I will never forget the downcast eyes and utter stillness that came over that person in that frozen moment. Years later I remember bursting into tears on the street of a faraway city because it was possible that I might cause that disappointment again. It was a completely irrational fear and my friends, although very supportive, probably thought I had gone off my rocker.

And when I'm disappointed? Whether intentional or not, preventable or not, I cannot get the disappointment out of my voice. It's the voice that gives me away.

So tonight my voice is a little subdued. Although the disappointment is mine in a indirect way, I can still feel it keenly for myself and for those more involved.

The Buzz:

At 1:55 a.m., Blogger shadowbox declared...

I'm sorry to hear about this...

I can empathize about those feelings of not wanting to let down others. And you know what I've learned? We disappoint people a lot less frequently than we think we do. We're our own worst critic.

Things work out. They always do.

At 10:44 a.m., Blogger Cuppa declared...

I hear you hunny and am speaking in the same subded tones these days. Nice to know that the pain is shared, but sorry that you hurt too. Reminds me of that old quote
"Joy shared is doubled, grief shared is halved."
How true. Thanks for caring and sharing.


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