Every time I look at you now, I know it. It feels so safe and secure. I am finally comfortable with feeling
or thinking it. I accept you.
For who you were, are and will not be. For never being there for me, for letting me down and for all that other crap. For the way you believe you have changed and for trying to make me play along.
I finally accept all about you and do not need anything in return. This feeling is serene and genuine, unquestionable and unconditional. 

But, if ever, it only comes afterwards.

I have learnt to empathize and let go, to bow and admit, to withstand and compromise.
I have found peace with myself and answers within. I have not yet mastered those arts, but I am a B+ student.
What I doubt I would ever learn is acceptance of the fact that when the people who mean the world to me are going through a heart tearing time, I do not have the power to walk that path instead of them. The mere fucking fact of it.

This weekend I proved two things right. First is that rules are vital to successful co-existence in a human society. Second is that sometimes you've just got to screw the rules and have some fun. And it is not as much about extending beyond the commonly accepted behavioral patterns, but more about challenging your own boundaries. It is also true that screwing of rules is governed by certain mandatory provisions of its own. And yet, it still pays off.