acceptance doesn't mean that things are OK. it doesn't mean that H is fine with what has happened, and it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt anymore. the pain has become dull instead of sharp, and even if the knowledge will never leave him, he doesn't think about S constantly anymore.
S no longer dies in his dreams every night.
what acceptance means, and this really is the best he can hope for, is that he has come to terms with reality. he has learnt how to live with it, how to deal with it so that it doesn't paralyze him anymore. it means that the number of good days exceeds the number of bad days, and it means that he can now live again. that breathing doesn't require conscious effort. it is not always easy, but these days he manages.
it has been two years and seven months since S walked in front of a truck; and tomorrow H will be wed to the woman who pulled him out from the darkness that his death pushed him into.
life goes on; and so must he.
even if there are things that were never said.
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