acceptance.

Have you ever had a bad experience, that you thought would ruin your life? You thought it would tear you apart, and shred you to pieces, and leave you to die, and rot on the floor, only for your carcass to be eaten by a pack of wolves? Ive had those moments. Ive experienced that feeling. And lately, theres been a struggle between a close one and I that revolves around that moment. She doesnt understand that the wolves never ate my carcass. That I am-no doubtedly-still in one piece; uncracked, and unharmed. Every piece is in its designated place.
When it all happened, I was scared. I thought it was the end. End of what, I dont know. But I cried. It wasnt a sobbing, bawling my eyes out kind of cry. It was a soft, realization kicking in kind of cry. These were tears my eyes rarely had encountered. I sat there, on the little bed, my feet dangling. I stared at the tiled floor, eyes locked in place. I was terrified, and the questions spinning around in my head only scared me more. What would people think? How did this happen? What will I do? But the question that was most vivid in my head, that was screaming, that I was asking myself repeatedly was: Why me?
It could have happened to anyone. Why did it have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve it? I thought about this. I racked my brain for weeks. What the hell did I do to fucking deserve this?! I was a good kid. I was happy before this. Why me? My thoughts wouldnt leave me alone. My thoughts had stolen a car, and were speeding dangerously fast, just managing to not hit every object as they drove. But then it happened. And I dont know why.
They hit a brick wall.
The thoughts stopped. I forgot it happened. Let me restate that so you understand, and can grip what I am saying. I forgot what had happened. I FORGOT the pain. I forgot the thoughts, the questions, the fears, the worries. I forgot it all. Acceptance set in, with its own grace and elegance. I accepted what happened, and I was finally okay. Yes, its something I will live with the rest of my life. But everything that has ever happened to me is something I will live with for the rest of my life, so why should this one bad thing make any bit of a difference? It shouldnt, and Ive made the decision not to let it. I have accepted what happened. I have accepted that it is a part of me now. It doesnt change me, or who I am, or the person I have been or will be.
I accepted it. I dont know how I did, I dont even recall the actual act of accepting it. I guess it-"it" meaning the acceptance-crept in on its own, and decided to take the wheel of the hi-jacked car. The airbag cushioned the blow, so I was okay. I am okay.