Muse [18+] • REVISING

30 | Acceptance

V E R A

━━━━━━━━━━

The act of begging shows little to no mercy.

It is based on everything fear, agony, and hopelessness as those who find themselves in such a desperate position are hanging onto a complacent feeling for dear life. In some cases, it works. Whether you're figuratively or physically on your knees, asking another person to complete your partially selfish favors might just work out the way you need it to. The person you're asking might play along because they enjoy being begged. It makes them feel important; needed.

In other cases, in love, there is no sweet response. There is no perfect moment or grand declaration, instead, it's a kind of rude awakening. Sometimes, you take the chance of begging and the response you get leaves you on the floor with bruises on your knees and your heart somewhere on the other side of the room.

I've had four days to process how one-hundred and sixteen days with someone, someone who has made you feel like you've known them for a lifetime, has an impossible way of turning bricks into ashes in a matter of seconds. How do you tell someone you love them and that you're also planning on leaving them in the same breath? I haven't slept since.

The little time that I had to come to terms with current events had me going through the motions for ninety-six hours. In that time, all I can remember is the initial impact of Damien's confession, the silence that followed us everywhere along with my refusal to speak to both Cordelia and Nicolas, having to go through an influx of submitted love stories amid heartbreak, and hazy snippets of Damien emptying his drawers.

As I find myself sitting on the daybed of his balcony, watching the moon take on the sun for the fourth time this week, all I can do is laugh at the circumstances. I've managed to isolate and bury myself in work, ignoring everyone around me that seems to care. I don't think to apologize for my behavior as this is something I have learned from Damien.

Although I'm hurt, there is no resentment, no ounce of malice in me. There is no point in me placing my anger onto someone that is only trying to understand their own feelings. I only say this because of him as I remember the night Damien first told me about his mother, when he shared the French expression: Tout comprendre c'est tout pardonner, to understand all is to forgive all.

He went on to explain how the most fatal yet relieving thing you can do is to understand the people that have hurt you in some way. At the time, I remember looking at him with the most stumped expression as I couldn't wrap my head around this idea of forgiving someone for wronging you. Damien finished his explanation by telling me that if I have been slighted, it is only my pain to endure and understand, not the person doing the slighting.

I lay down, my head pressing into the pillows and nothing has clicked more. There is love here but it is too complex and we were not ready for it, no matter how many times you say the words. Breaking all of it down to its simple form, I am an incurable traveler seeking solace and he is a man too scared of promise. I let another tear soak the pillow underneath me and face grief the best I can. This is part of the final stage, acceptance.

Hearing footsteps meet the concrete of the balcony, a voice follows. The moon hitting the deck tells me it's nearing midnight.

"Please come inside already. You've been out here since I picked you up from the university," Damien begs for the third time tonight. "Vera, come on."

I'm tired of listening and so I stay silent, figuring out a way to tune him out. I then feel a weight drop next to me and I know there is only mere proximity between us, which is why I don't bother moving from my position. A minute or so passes by and the weight never lifts, causing me to slowly turn onto my back. Barely glancing over, he's also lying on his back with his hands clasped together on his stomach. He's not looking at me but the sky above us.