Acceptance

You have lived half your life and never really understood it. You have read about it, pretended to understand it and made a neat little bunch of quotable quotes. Then one day, you learn about it anew and you realize that nothing you thought you knew about it has prepared you for it. It reveals itself in slow doses every hour, every day.

Acceptance is lying on your bed, sobbing and throwing up, and wiping your face with the bedsheet as the cat outside keeps knocking on the door.

Acceptance is calling a friend, pleading for help and then hanging up midway.

Acceptance is fighting with the washing machine, punching it on the sides and willing it to quieten because the sound causes your stomach to churn.

Acceptance is sitting out in the sun and breaking down. It is lying under the quilt and breaking down.

Acceptance is battling the see-saw of your moods; it’s delirium one moment, and fear the next moment. It’s control followed by a spiraling fall.

Acceptance is making light of everything because faking is easier than confronting.

Acceptance is adding up your life in episodes and wondering if it could have been any different.

Acceptance is asking the one you love the most to walk away because you don’t have the answers she seeks.

Acceptance is praying that she never finds herself like you when she has come this far.

Acceptance is letting the mask slip and coming undone with your grief.

Acceptance is living through it all and yet somehow willing yourself into living another day. 

Acceptance is fool's courage. It is setting out again, giving yourself another chance.