Allowing Disappointment

What you see
may not feel good.

Not because you did something wrong.

But because
you’re no longer filling
what used to be there.

And without that,
something is missing.

Not imagined.
Actually missing.

The response you expected.
The care you were used to.
The sense of being met.

And this time,
you don’t replace it.

You don’t give more
to bring it back.

So the disappointment stays.

Not briefly.

But long enough
to be clear.

This is what’s here.
And it may not be enough.

That’s the part
that’s hardest to accept.

Because before,
you could have made it
feel like enough.

You could have added more.

Adjusted more.
Carried more.

And the gap
wouldn’t have been as visible.

Now it is.
And you feel it.

Not as confusion.
But as recognition.

This isn’t meeting me
the way I thought it was.

And there’s also
the other side.

They may feel the difference.

The space.
The change.
The absence of what you used to do.

And that may bring
their own reaction.

Distance.
Discomfort.
Disappointment.
Resentment.

Not because you’ve harmed them.

But because something familiar
is no longer there.

And you don’t fix that either.

You don’t return
to how you were
to restore the feeling.

So both sides
have to sit in it.

Not resolving it.
Not smoothing it over.

Just seeing it
for what it is.

And sometimes,
that’s where it stays.

Not improving.
Not becoming
something better.

In that clarity,
a decision becomes unavoidable.

Not immediately.
But eventually.

Whether what’s here
is enough to remain.
Without returning
to what you were doing before.

And sometimes,
the answer is no.