I didn't get here with my expectations without a lot of kicking and screaming. I struggle a lot with what "should" or "should not" be. I'm almost 50 and I still struggle deeply with the fact that life isn't fair. Like it just is not fair that the young (60yo) widow across the street has lost two H's, the first to a drunk driver and the second to cancer. Nope. Not fair! It's not fair that children die from disease or abuse. Ugh!!! I believe in God and struggle *very* much with how he wrote this into his design. All the answers I get are just mumbo-jumbo to me, because it still doesn't make it acceptable.
It's easier with H, because I realize he is a separate being that simply thinks differently than I do. H apparently can rationalize in his mind that it's okay to lie to me, *and* think that I should not lie to him. I've seen nothing in my life with him to make me think he will do differently. So it's easy to let go of that expectation.
I'm wondering if you're confusing "expectations" with "hope"? You certainly hoped your H would do those things, but did you live your life expecting it? When I expect something, I put myself out there. If I expect someone will pick me up from the airport, I go where I'm supposed to meet them and look for them. I'm not just *hoping* they'll show up, without a plan, without a discussion. I can't expect them to pick me up if there was no agreement.
Where everything falls apart with expectations, I think, is when it *is* discussed, it *is* agreed upon, and then the other person bails on it. That destroys trust. That makes you unwilling to put yourself out there again.
Unfortunately, I think "hoping" and losing hope is actually worse than failed expectations. I've been whittling down my expectations for a while. But the really hard part for me is that I really don't have any hope for the M any longer. Now I feel like I have to just sit back and watch it die, because I feel like it's inevitable and there's nothing I can do about it. To me, that's much worse.
H and I tangled a bit in the morning yesterday, but then I left to go to a musical with my BFF. When I got home, H was doing his pretend-like-everything-is-okay act. When that didn't work, he reverted to "hiding." And then this morning, he sent me an email saying he was sorry we didn't get a chance to talk, which makes me ill, knowing that there was plenty of opportunity but that he simply chose not to. I could have written the script for this, he's so predictable. So I'm back into full GAL-mode. I slipped over Christmas because school was out and everything was focused on at-home or family activities. That's over and school is starting up again. It helps to get me out and interact with other people. Plus, work called and I have a couple first-quarter projects. All this helps take my focus off my sitch.
So I've hit a few potholes in my stride, but I've picked myself back up and I'm looking ahead again. It's a process. I don't think it's ever really over, until we die anyway. And that's sort of sad, really.
