Acceptance

I am a control freak out of control. The irony is not lost on me; I can’t even control being a control freak. I can’t remember how it feels to be at peace with things out of my control. Maybe it’s because I’ve rarely been at peace. I mean true peace without regrets, realizing that I had done the best I could. Releasing the guilt and blame to someone else and being done. I have a hard time letting it go and walking away. Sometimes the only option is acceptance.

I hate that friction feels familiar; even “normal”. Fighting to be understood, validated; trying to find that middle ground. Wanting to substantiate, explain and release this burden. Trying to create peace and calm creates such chaos, at least internally; my point lost in the noise. Why didn’t I stop while ahead? The moment is gone; futile attempt. Losing ground in a few short sentences. Intellectually aware but emotionally foolish. Locked in the same dance. Sometimes the only option is acceptance.

Being in control takes vigilance. My brain is always churning, thinking of new ways to control what I can’t control. Thinking is exhausting. There is a script that plays when I am alone with my thoughts. It runs in my car, in the shower, in my bed when the world is quiet. It’s what I would say if I had the chance to confront her again. What I should have said if I had been better prepared when he and I disagreed. It’s easy to be right and to be heard when only I am talking, when only I am listening. Sometimes the only option is acceptance.

I seek closure and I want all of my stories to have happy endings. But I am not the only character in these chapters. Unwritten endings may be wrought with anxiety but I believe there is always a chance until the last page is turned. Not every story ends well. Sometimes the only option is acceptance.