The Nature of Humans

People disappoint people.

Girls disappoint boys.

Dads disappoint daughters. 

Friends disappoint each other.

Idols disappoint fans.

We disappoint ourselves.

What is it about disappointment, since we know it will come after us eventually, that stings so badly? 

Why do we put faith in the idea that "this time will be different" when that idea is proved wrong over and over and over?

Human nature is odd in that we have this fantastic ability to dull the hurt someone causes us just enough to be able to dive back into the relationship with renewed hope.  For the smartest things walking this planet, we aren't very bright.

Maybe it's just because we have this irrational need to fix everything, or maybe its because we grew up with the fairy-tale idea of a "happily-ever-after."  

I think that maybe we are too afraid to face whatever unknowns this world holds for us and we would rather just blissfully pretend the people we trust won't hurt us in the end.

I grew up in a world unfit for a child.  I grew up surrounded by disappointment and yelling and leaving and crying and rebuilding and starting over.  

So maybe that's why, when I look at the people I surround myself with, I don't expect too much.  

I don't expect people to follow-through on their obligations. I don't expect people to be there when I need them.  I don't expect anything but the bare minimum: a polite, maybe friendly smile, some conversation, and promises that won't be kept.

This way,  I am not constantly disappointed but instead pleasantly surprised when those promises are fulfilled, the conversation has meaning, and the smiles turn to laughter.

People disappoint people, but we are in charge of who has the power to hurt us.

you. it was always you.

I was drowning my thoughts and dancing where every boy could watch when you saved me from myself.  I told you nothing could happen between us.  I warned you that I was broken and no good and that it woud only lead to heartbreak.  You just looked at me, shook your head, and proceeded to kiss me anyways.  And how could I ever say no? I was broken, but you were too.  And the love we founded on blurred weekends and slurred words healed both our hearts.  I warned you I was trouble, but you held me tight and lent me the strength I needed to smile again.

I'm still afraid to break you like she did; you are more fragile than you like to let on.  I'm even more afraid to lose the only thing that shines in the darkness surrounding me.  You're chest, that simple thump-thump-thump of your heart, it's my anchor. My faith when I hid from God.  

I'm broken, but you aren't in a hurry to fix me.  You love me anyways, you say. And if you can love me at my saddest, I can't wait to see how easy this is when I'm healed and happy again. 

deserving

"I just think you deserve better"  I was told.

Well, I do.  I deserve better than him.  He's not perfect, he doesn't always do the right thing.
But he's mine, and he deserves better than what I give, too.

How can I hold high expectations when I am such a tumultuous ball of uncertainty?
I can't.

He may not be perfect, but he is perfect where it counts.
He doesn't push me for answers I can't even start to give.  He doesn't question the reasoning behind my less-than-lovely moments.  He takes my moods and tucks them away without really feeling the venom in my words.  He holds me when he knows I need it and he let's go when even the gentlest touch makes me bristle.

"I know I deserve better" I retorted, looking out the window.  But there was no conviction, because somewhere inside my mind was the convicting idea that I have more than I deserve.

I'm no good, yet I'm blessed with someone who loves me even at my worst, without ever seeing my best.  Not many can say that.

We are just two people with damaged hearts and stories that hurt to share.

Someday we will be at our best, that perfection that deserves one another.