Acceptance

As I grow older, I realize that I have become more and more accepting of the circumstances around me, no matter good or bad.

I accept that there are very few good people around me. I accept that I can count the number of people who are truly happy for my triumphs. I accept that I can count the number of people I can count on in times of need.

I accept that most people I know are selfish judgmental fools. I accept that I don’t need to be around negative people who complain about one thing or the other all the time. I accept that insulating myself against negativity may bring about positive thinking on my part notwithstanding the shallow innuendo that avoidance is never the solution.

I accept that people will make use of me. I accept that people will blame me even if it’s not my fault. I accept that people will take credit for my hard work. I accept that people will betray me. I accept that people will kick me when I’m down. I accept that people will talk behind my back.

I accept that I am an imperfect being. I accept that I have made mistakes. That I will make mistakes. That I am not right all the time. That it is not always black and white but various shades of colours.

I accept that I am alone and may be alone till the day I die. I accept that I live in an unforgiving world. I accept that the world may end tomorrow. If that really happens, I accept that too.

I live, but what have I learned?

It never happened before. I hope it never happens again. It's a total state of suspension. Almost like an out of body experience. Like it is happening to someone else. Realizing in 2 seconds that it happened to you. And yet not fully realizing. Picking up the pieces. Dealing with disaster. Missing a heart beat. Knowing it could have been worse.

With everything that has happened, one would think that I would be happy to be alive. But I am not. My only regret is that I almost took the people I loved the most with me. I don’t know what it was supposed to mean or symbolize. Life is precious? Life is short? I know I should feel that way but I don’t. Perhaps I will never know what it is supposed to mean. Perhaps I am not meant to know.