sandpaper fact

Denial is a kind of friction, when the thing you cannot accept continually, relentlessly rubs up against reality - which never budges.

And every piece of evidence chafes, and hurts, and blisters.

I have been guarding a certain fiction with every fiber of my being. And now every fiber of my being is worn threadbare by merciless, sandpaper fact.

Eventually, I guess, acceptance will win, when that protection has been scratched all away. When there is no more friction. When I am just gossamer on the ground.