Disappointment. It'll come crashing in with a triumphant thud, piercing the air with its siren. It's like having an unwanted houseguest on the first weekend of spring when all you want to do is drive around to look at all the gorgeous azaleas. Or if you live in a pre-war NYC apartment, it's the sound of the ancient furnace turning on at the sign of the first autumn frost – loud and rude. Either way, it's un-deterred in the way that it permeates your heart, your smile.
Whether it's the waiting and waiting, the relentless waiting for that little miracle that you first dreamed about when imagining a life with Mr. Right. Or when you see that no matter all your efforts at being charming, the fire between you and him is just…all but diminished. And he no longer tells you all the joyful little things he used to tell you that made you completely combust with a new light, a happy dance and made every day an amazing hair day. Or he's too tired to explore all your places, when before – he was insatiable when it came to your body, your face, your laugh, your thoughts.
And each new day, you look at him and wonder what he sees when he looks at you. The Southern spitfire with a dazzling smile that made his insides do somersaults or just the same girl with the same pajama pants he goes to bed with every night? It's a dance between you and him that became almost too easy. Complacent. Comforting. A warm cashmere sweater. When instead, you wanted the taste of a intoxicating sweet sancerre. And that's the current disappointment.
