The matter of great expectations.

I can live. Without great expectations. Yes, expectations can be a curse. I’d rather live to the utmost. To take life as it comes. The best way I can.  If I create expectations. A hard and fast goal. I set myself up for failure. Better not to be judgmental. About others. But especially about myself. I find myself in a quandary. At the moment. I’m relatively easy on myself. I can readily adjust to my failings. Because I can fail. And still be happy. I can accept shortcomings in myself. And live happily ever after. But now I’m watching dear friend Julie.  Trying to recover from alcoholism. Trying to find her way out of the deep abyss called depression. I want to put huge demands. Yes, great expectations. On Julie. There can be no room for failure. Because I haven’t learned to accept an unhappy, a despondent, a despairing Julie. It’s a must. Julie must achieve nothing less than the great expectations. That I’m setting. For her. Otherwise.  I will be the unhappy one. I can’t stand for that. So, dear Julie, you are hereby ordered. Not only to set great expectations. But to achieve them all, too. --Jim Broede