Any kind of great grief has five stages- denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.
Having struggled through the first three, she was caught in between the last two moving to and fro.
Acceptance would have been easy for that would mean getting over the forlornness that kept her up nights like this- hot and suffocating; shifting uncomfortably in her bed, soaking her pillow with warm longing.
But acceptance also meant letting go. It spelt the inability to hold on to her beliefs that she had built one care at a time.
Acceptance meant dissolution of her notions that were in sharp contrast to what was.
Acceptance meant submission to reality and she fought hard to claw back to the stifling shelter of abjection and the comfort of make belief, in fear of slipping into admission.
She preferred depression over acceptance for the time being, until she was ready to leave behind the euphoria of freedom she got out of her beliefs…