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She put away all the Christmas items without even batting a tear. Progress.
She could barely breathe still and a certain resigned melancholy was the mood. She thought maybe she won''t eat today. Fuck it.
Oops, she forgot a red bow.
There, now everything was put away.
She had wept and researched and rended her hair shirt to threads, and she was a bit done. Sending him all of the stories felt like massive danger, but more importantly, it felt like having a voice.
The only way to play it had been played.
She understood how stalkers get formed. She hadn''t felt the urge to stalk anyone since the first marriage breaker. This dude had affected her big time. C''est la vie.
She was very used to being alone. It was going to be OK or it wouldn''t be. More than anything, she''s very happy she encountered him. He lit her up when she had forgotten what it even felt like.
And let''s slap the delusion down.
They had practically run out of every surface topic to talk about. He practically thought she was a red team member and couldn''t get it out of his head. She was on his team.
Going back to work, she was going to have to say he died. That would be the only justification for her extreme checking out.
And in a way, he had. She didn''t do the tarot very often now that she was a big ole grown up, but these were desperate times and she whipped it out and held her breath. It delivered like a champ: Valour, the Star, Truce, The Chariot, The Hierophant, Aeon/Judgement, and of course Death and the Tower. It was actually a pretty epic reading.
It gave her some peace.
She loved the man. She was going to fight for the man, yet it had played out in the form it was. She had turned into the chasing fawn. He had rolled his eyes and took her squeeze box. She was currently burning his candle all the way.
The day was all depressing and winter.
It was perfect.
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