He says he's accepting it:

the new life he's been dealt...we've been dealt,

the loss of his independence,

the need to rely on someone else to get through the day,

through the night.

 

Maybe he is, to some degree.

It's hard for him, though.

I can see through his determination,

his veneer of normalcy,

that things are as they were...

to what they should be.

 

Maybe it's me who's having trouble accepting.

I'm a pace behind him, as ever,

in grieving the loss and moving on.

Illusions of his invincibility cling stubbornly, teasing.

 

But love endures.

Love and need.