Tag Archives: disappointment

Sharp shock

Those jarring events which tear through the soft underbelly of vulnerabilities laid bare.
Perhaps that’s just a little too esoteric. I never claimed that crafting metaphors was my forte.
It’s disappointing that the first entry after such a long disappearance, a prolonged abandonment to writing, is one with such a disheartening theme. But let the previous record show that I’ve never been one for happiness.
Succinctly, a disappointment after what seemed to be a smooth journey. Or rather, the journey was never fully smooth but just enough to lull me into a sense of security. Falsely perhaps, but isn’t good enough sometimes just perfect?
It is the foolishness that gets to me. My own. That foolishness that comes from a belief, finally after all these years, a self belief that someone, something actually saw my qualifications for what they were. Even if I didn’t. 
There were meetings, where I was tested. Again and again. And as each hurdle was passed, I mistakenly believed that I was close. Closer to the thing my heart desired, my hearts desire. 
And then that sharp shock-that abrupt abomination. Ended it. With no recourse, no u-turn. 
After having placed all my hope, all of it into the one thing…. the snatching away of it, is particularly cruel. All the other shocks, though sharp in their own unique ways were nothing compared to the finality of that last sharp shock.
It is the stupidity I feel. How stupid was I to believe I was as good as what they said? How stupid was I to think that I was better than the others? How stupid was I to think that I was special? 
The soft side is scarred. It’s inevitable. But beyond the scarring, beneath the red, raw bloodied screaming wound, is the complete collapse of my belief in my self. Where there once was something there, there is nothing left. 


The ecstasy and the agony.

In the dichotomy of things that were and things that could be, on the one hand there is the cold bleakness that is reality and on the other, blissful fantasy.

It would have been ultimately wiser to leave things shaded in the dark depths of the unknown.. Had I not let my sense of curiosity overtake me, I would not have pried ever deeper into deciphering the enigma of a man id only met in the briefest sense and into whose life I only made the shortest of interludes. But in whose presence, I can now admittedly, say made me feel for the briefest of moments, the centre of the universe. Curiosity here did indeed kill..

Hoarding all the details I’d gleaned from him, and with what I can quantifiably say are my superior investigative abilities, I slowly teased him out-first his profession, then where he worked and finally, with an almost insouciant ease, the personal details of his life.

It turns out he’s already taken, already accounted and spoken for. And really why should I have expected any less? A man who is that well qualified, that good looking; surely he would already be with someone else. I should have already anticipated this and yet I did not. For in that free and easy moment, it was he who flirted with me and not vice versa. Or perhaps it shouldn’t even be called a flirtation at this stage, knowing now what I do, it was perhaps a little playful interjection. No harm intended and no hidden agendas. I just read too much into something completely insignificant.

However, I cannot deny the quick flash of pain which came over me when those little nuggets of information were revealed. Perhaps because I had already begun to build a fantasy life, despite knowing how flimsy such a fantasy could be. ‘Fate works in mysterious ways’, I thought; ‘surely the universe did not intend me to meet that man, and have him interact with me for no reason’

It turns out that the fate and the universe by extension are utterly cruel. For there was nothing that was meant to happen; the mere hint of something happening would have been a preposterous notion. Yes, people meet in many strange, mysterious ways, but it is always a stretch to believe that such a thing could happen to me. But I thought, as I always do, ‘maybe this time’..

I suppose it is better this way, to be able to nip this thing in the bud before it blossoms into something bigger than I could possibly control. I suppose this way, the fall is not substantial, the hurt much less. Why should I mourn for an event which never happened? How can I mourn for something which only happened in my mind’s eye?

It was never a reality therefore I should feel nothing beyond this prick of sadness. The sadness comes from the quiet devastation of knowing that reality and fantasy once again failed to meet up. I of course mourn the fact that for the first time, a man I found to be attractive found me attractive enough to interact with; I cannot bring myself to say he flirted with me anymore, that temerity which I had from the ego boost now seems so distant and far away; turned out to already be taken. The storybook fairy tale romance I had in my mind, that is completely gone, replaced by the reality of my grinding life.