Degrees of Separation.
Denial.
You swear that this is not the end, that it is another of those fights, a disagreement that will soon simmer into the usual murmured apology and gradual-onset passive aggression.
Anger.
You’re screaming, pacing with your heart racing, and breaking innocent china.
Bargaining.
Crying, pleading, and promises like long winding roads that lead nowhere. You start to hope that the value of your love will finally occur to them in a convenient epiphany, and they’ll come back.
They never do.
Depression.
It’s 00:13 a.m, and you can’t sleep. You have come undone in the corner of your bed, crying streams into the rivers in your ears.
Acceptance.
For the first time in a while, you wake up to the sun, and it doesn’t sting. Moving does not feel like hauling anvils strapped to your ankles.
You even smile.
