Sometimes the people closest to you disappoint you the most.
Maybe it’s because you have higher expectations of them and you form this idealistic image of them that you intend for them to follow. Maybe it’s because you think you know them as well as they do, sometimes even more. Maybe it’s because you never expect them to fail at anything you ask of them.
They have to follow your mold. You expect them to. You comfort yourself thinking they have to fit your standards. That they are required to live in your dreams. You find nostalgic happiness knowing they are like the back of your hand. You just know them that well. You can predict them that well. They will meet your expectations.
And then they don’t.
They do something unexpected and even fail; what else can you do but be disappointed? What can you do when they aren’t there when they need you the most? What can you do when you expect your closest ones to accept you and your flaws, and they don’t?
You’re disappointed. No shit. Of course you are, your best buddies just failed to be the open-minded people you had befriended. Worse, they rejected you. They couldn’t accept your flaws, your mistakes, your insecurities. They couldn’t meet your standards, your qualifications. Those bastards. Those bitches. I hate being disappointed. I hate useless people. I hate not having my high expectations met. I am the harshest when it comes to standards.
Screw you for disappointing me. Fuck you for failing. I hate you for not being the angel I thought you were.
Too bad standards are rarely followed.
Rules were made to be broken.
Countless times I have had to face that.
Many times I had to rebound and bring myself to forgive failure.
Millions of times questioned friendships.
Who gave you the right to make molds? To force people into your vision of “normal”. To make them accept you for your mess ups and turn around and not return the same favor? That is outright hypocrisy right? I should know, I always say I hate hypocrites, but there are so many accounts where I was one. And I guess that makes sense, I don’t like myself. And I still don’t like hypocrites.
Oh, wait. I can think that. I don’t mess up. Never. I am useful. I fit everyone else’s mold. I make no mistakes.
Bullshit.
I know that. I know I make mistakes. That I’m not perfect. That other people aren’t perfect. They still disappoint me. They don’t fit my mold. But, I don’t have a choice. I have to accept them. I want to accept them. I want to accept me.
Do I disappoint you?
Because you disappoint me.