Acceptance

I regained consciousness in a time period small enough for me to realise that a mere split-second ago, it was the slamming of the door that woke me up from my sweet slumber.

It's a sunny Sunday morning, and none of my 10:00AM alarms have yet rang, so I snuggle under the sheets some more.

I got out of bed and into the toilet, and later, as I showered, I thought to myself why I felt so profoundly different today.

Why did I not feel drained, and emptied of all my humanity?

Why did I not feel despair, and desperation?

Why, I kept wondering.

Then it struck me minutes later, when I recalled what it was that I dreamt of last night: I had just gotten home. I was driving again. I had my hair cut. I had my white coffee. I had my car washed. I was with all the things and all the people I loved. I got to see my parents again.

I was home.

Today, somehow, the thought of not being able to pass two academic subjects seem rather, small. And minuscule. Today, somehow, I am not that bothered anymore.

Perhaps I have finally come to terms with it, and am done with the shock and horror. Weighted academic standings and the huge financial costs notwithstanding, failing two critical pathetic little subjects is not the end of the world.

There are still many decades of life left to live.

And so life goes on.