Disappointment seems to me to be a particular poison pill of our times. Rarely though do we hear of it mentioned as compared to other feelings. Disappointment is a “fine whine” of a feeling, cultivated, nurtured for years, and buried within the confines of one’s own heart or soul. However, when one looks under the anger, or the rage, or the addiction, or the rationalization or the self-justification, one finds almost always that that is where disappointment lives.