Expectation is the devil. It is the uttermost painful fault that I thought I was done doing. I thought I had put this behind me, this act of winding myself up. I didn’t think you of all people would do this to me. So I put all the complacency and trust in you. But as it turns out, this time is no different than the rest. It’s a fresh reprimand. And the worst thing? I can’t even feel bad about being let down because the alternative is just too worthy a cause. I feel bad for feeling bad. It’s such an overkill emotion. It’s a double headed blade created perfectly for my most vulnerable of spots. And it hurts. And I don’t want to cry. I just want to sleep the whole day. Waste the whole day away in peaceful slumber so that I would be devoid of thinking, of acting, of doing. I don’t blame you for not choosing me. I’d not choose me had I been in your place. My pain is illogical, this I know. And I’m beyond irrelevant in this scenario. But allow me to feel this way for a while. Just so it gets inculcated in me again not to expect anything from anyone but myself. So that anything that other people can or will do for me will be taken as a surprise. Shakespeare was so right; scratch that, he was beyond all flawed human thinking, when he said “Expectation is the root of all heartbreak.”


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