Analysis of Expectation

Existing in its feeling
but without knowing its source.
Stuck to me like a second skin.

I searched for it
and dug deep along each edge
each corner
and grasped
and pulled
and shaped the pieces into its conceptual truth.
But outside.

I looked at it apart from me;
held in my hands.
Looked at what it is
without my essence as its vessel.
Something not of me.
But living within me.
Heavy. In secret.
A learned reaction that simply was.
But was not simple.
Built from the beliefs of others.

Then.
I held it out.
I let it slip between my fingers.
Just as wet sand beneath the ocean
with help from the tide.

As sure as disappointment
it will return.
Like a fly almost caught.
A lie almost told.
But for today
I've let it fall.
Today I've put it in a bin beneath the bed.
Today I am less weighed by its burden.