A long time ago I pondered which was worse: betrayal or disappointment and…it’s still disappointment because disappointment comes from within. We break our own hearts with anticipation or expectations that just cannot be fulfilled. One day maybe I will learn to manage my enthusiasm…but then again, maybe not…I love that deep down I still believe in good things and happy endings, even if I don’t believe in them much for myself. Some sort of middle ground between starry-eyed enthusiast and cynical spinster would be nice…alas my existence remains a bit bipolar. And I fear I’ll continue to tap dance between unreachable and hopelessly romantic.
But I mean…there are worse things I could do.
benandavasmom 