It was just another symptom of life, she told herself.
Like wearing a mini skirt that she wouldn't have worn today or mostly any other day, if she actually had any fresh clothes left to wear.
Like being careless and accidentally making a dent in her bedroom wall.
Like having to change in and out of university units because none of them suited her: they were either too underwhelming or too overwhelming.
They were symptoms of everyday life, so she tried to convince herself that this was the same. Except it wasn't, because you couldn't compare dirty laundry with dirty words. Words... words that stained her insides and claimed her mind. Words that limit, debilitate, crush her. She couldn't bear to spend another second thinking about those words, because even a second seemed too long, too hurtful, too painful to bear. She had no way out, yet.
And that was that. She wasn't going to sugarcoat it with a "but I'll do my best with what I have and don't have right now", because it wasn't that simple. Making the best out of a bad situation is sometimes doable, but she knew that in this case, she couldn't. She just had to live on, and just do, and worry about the rest later. Sometimes everything is out of your control and accepting it is the best control you have. That was, at least, what she tried to tell herself, over and over again.
