Sunday, July 11, 2010

The looking glass, so shiny and new; How quickly the glamour fades

Disappointment is probably one of the worst feelings in the world. It’s why when your parents are “disappointed” in you it feels so much worse than if they just got angry at you. It’s that feeling that you held an ideal to this person, that you thought of a genuinely good person and then they turn around and spit all over this image. The fact that you took someone, someone you believed in, trusted them, loved them to some uncertain capacity and then the fact that they took that and shattered it.

It’s gut wrenching.

Not only that but it leaves you with the question: can you go back? Will you still feel about them the same way? Can you move on with your lives?

It’s often hard to tell. People disappoint each other all the time.

As I was told, everyone is flawed. Everyone has issues. Everyone has their dark parts.

It often makes me wonder, however, if it’s worth it? You see the mantras, you hear about it growing up. “See the best in people.” “Love unconditionally.” Perhaps some people just take that for granted--or maybe it IS just a mistake. Or a one time thing.

But can you just change that back? Can you unseen what has been seen.

When Dorothy saw the tiny man behind the curtain, could she still believe in the wonder of OZ?

I guess the question becomes, if people each have their dark pasts, are all people scum? And if so, are the ones who don’t seem so awful are just people we don’t know enough to know their problems?

How well do you really know any of your friends?

Dramatic much?

Probably. But that’s what disappointment seems to do. It’s not only a fiery explosion but a slow burn. It eats at you. Eats at your trust. Your love. Your compassion. It twists things. Changes them from these normal things to something that is easy corrupted.

I will often admit to the title of cynic. However, despite how bad things have been or how awful someone has treated me, for some reason I still don’t always see the worst in people upon first meeting.

Or even second meeting.

After high school there were definite walls to be broken in regards to friendships, some people had to work harder than others but I’ve managed to surprisingly put a lot of that behind me. I don’t necessarily usher in the new companions but I’m not so quick to turn them away either. Certain things spring up as warning signs, but often I feel like the greatest disappointments come from left field.

Unfortunately, that reality was created again earlier this week when a friend confessed a previous indiscretion. Obviously, I won’t get into the details of it but I will honestly say that it’s an issue that can happen to anyone. And yes, even me. I can recall a time when a similar situation arose in my own life but that’s another story.

Either way, someone who I’m not incredibly close with but adore, respect and admire anyways (perhaps that’s why I felt such fuzzy feelings) confessed to something that I don’t agree on. This was someone who I looked up to, who over our short friendship made things a lot less bad. Who’d tease me for my girly-ness but was always there for a laugh or to connect. The long talks we could have about anything and everything did mean a lot to me after I managed to break through that outer wall (both his and my own). However, he told me something and that image, that respect, that admiration came crashing down. Not only that but it tainted my view of other relationships as well. It felt like he had struck me. Or betrayed me. Which, I realize I have no right to feel. I mean, it’s not his fault that I put him on this proverbial pedestal. It’s not his fault that I felt this way about him. He has no reason to live up to my expectations. However, no matter how much I could understand or sympathize with the situation (remember, I had been in both roles/sides), I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. A piece of me broke.

People say that things happen for a reason. That lessons need to be learned. That you can find things out about yourself if you let it happen.

Sure, it sounds like a bunch of spiritual mumbo gumbo but, I guess to a certain extent I want to agree. I want to feel like my life is an after school special and that there’s some greater purpose out there.

What it boils down to, no matter how you’d want to see it is that people are flawed creatures. We make mistakes. We learn from them. Disappointment is unfortunately a part of life. I never said it was fair, I never said it was right. One of the many problems with pedestals is that people fall off them.

Sure, maybe my magical world of OZ isn’t there anymore. Everyone will have a tragic flaw or do something stupid every once awhile.

What I have now? It’s more grounded, more solid and more real.

OZ is great, but it’s fantasy.

You can’t live in that happy little world forever.

1 comment:

  1. "I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. A piece of me broke." Truer words...I know that feeling.

    Funny, I've normally been aware of how detrimental how certain truths can be--as you know. You wonder if it is worth telling the other person, could they understand? What was the point? Should anything be said? Would things stay the same afterwards? Obviously not.

    Being on the side of the disappointer, I've sometimes thought about it as a fine balance of the image people have of you versus your own self-image. Once you become of aware of that external pedestal, do you love it? Do you want to stay on it? When that internal strife becomes too great and you start to think you need to tell someone, is it worth sacrificing that external image/pedestal hoping that net of friendship, trust and love is strong enough to carry you both?

    I wonder what this person would think were you to make your feelings about this known to him/her?