My only way of handling disappointment is to take the blame myself. It is way easier to deal with heartbreaks and loneliness when I can convince myself that the mess, indeed, is not in the other person but in my brain. Because I am my strictest teacher, harshest critic, strongest monitor. The heart, it must be reigned in. The brain, it must be organized. Dependence on other people must be whittled away to zero. One must be strong and one must be independent. It is way easier to sternly rebuke oneself than it is to wait for someone else, who will not turn up anyway. Crying alone in the loo is way better than embarrassing myself in front of a second human being. No one, but no one, must know that each phone call from home is making me die a little bit inside.
It is probably not a healthy way to deal with life's problems but it works for me. Being independent is the last straw I clutch at, because nothing else seems to make much sense nowadays.
I wish 2011 would get over quickly. It's fucked with my heart enough already.