They say that the inability to accept loss is a form insanity. If that's the case then I would say that I've been semi-insane for the last 9 years, give or take. But I've finally woken up, finally stopped lying to myself about what I want to be true and what IS true. I've realized the difference between words, as beautiful and moving as they are, and action. Words can mean so much, can create feelings, hopes, beliefs. Everything can be built on them. That is where the danger lies. Words with no action behind them, are empty. They can't sustain a heart. They may bring it to extrodinary heights, but they can't hold it there. Eventually it will awake, and find itself lying on the ground, never really having left. Just believing it had.
And now looking back, eventhough I never really had that thing that I love so dearly in the first place, that realization alone is an enormous loss for me. It explains why I was never able to accept it. No heart can dream forever, everyone has to wake up sometime.
They say that the inability to accept loss is a form of insanity, but sometimes it's the only way to stay alive. Physically, the human body is designed to compensate for loss, it adapts, hopefully that same principle extends to the human heart.
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