Current mood:	sad
Current music:	hands down-Dashboard Confessionals

Disappointment
There is no greater pain than that of disappointing people. People you love and care for. People who you want to give your best to. Despite the fact that you tried real hard. That you shed sweat and tears and blood to achieve. That you sacrificed your sleeping time and your fun time just so you could succeed and still end up short.

There's nothing more painful than handing over that sheet of paper and looking at your father's forlorn face. The one who had such high hopes and dreams for you. He knows that you did your best, so he doesn't scold you par usual. The scolding that you've grown to hate as you grew up. The scolding that inevitably comes every time you receive your grades. The scolding that makes you cry each time. The one that makes you feel so inadequate.

And yet, in your mind, you start scolding yourself. You start sporadically crying, thinking about how you failed them. How you tried and did your best and failed, how you've never failed in your life before.

And you remember the saying that if you set your mind on something, you can get it. And you start to wonder, how come you set your mind into succeeding, you sacrificed and did all that you could and still coming up empty.

And you start feeling lost and confused. Feeling pained and forlorn and sad. Sad for not meeting their expectations. Sad for not meeting the expectations you have for yourself.

And for once in your life you couldn't find the silver lining to that grey cloud. You couldn't smile through the pain. And you realize that you're not as brave as you make out to be. That deep inside you're not that optimistic person who laughs at her own shortcomings. Who uses her own failures to make others happy. That even laughter wouldn't cure the pain.

And then you think about all the faces that you let down, all the eyes that look at you with disappointment. And when you face the mirror, you see your own disappointment. Reflected, revealed and you couldn't escape your own guilt, your own grief. You can't hide from those eyes, you can't escape yourself.

And then you wonder, will things be all right again?