in my house - or at the very least, lately, in my head - there's been a lot of talk of expectation. what it means to me have something expected of me, how it is i dig my heels in, what threat is latent in the pull of the possibility of a promise. if that sounds like one deferral too many, it probably is. i'm sensitive, you see, to expectation. work myself up in knots about it, respond - very grumpily - to anything i perceive as remotely pigeonholing.
so when j asked me this morning if i was happy in our relationship, my stomach started tying. we have different modes of expression, she and i. in general, she's much more effusive (she would say "enthusiastic") about her emotions, about her discoveries, about happiness, about pretty much everything, than i am. she's more heart-on-the-sleeve, let-it-all-hang-out. and me, i'm more reserved, some might say stuffed-shirt, stick-up-my-ass (i *do*, however, prefer the former to the latter). so her question stopped me for a second, and aside from the obvious "yes, i am happy" i had to acknowledge the shape of that nascent knot. how is it that i find it so hard to talk about, let alone express, large declarations of happiness?
i don't know if i've always been like this, or if it's something i've learned over the years, but enthusiasm sometimes frightens me. and here's the tie-in, maybe, with the expectation thing. i get freaked that somewhere in the heart of enthusiasm lies the possibility of disappointment. and if there's disappointment, then there must be expectation. and if there's expectation, i'm bound to disappoint, or be disappointed. enthusiasm = expectation = disappointment. it's a faulty equation, intellectually, but try telling that to my stomach.
and on that note, here's an old gem, circa 1993.
the skydiggers - i will give you everything
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