Morning Pages, June 15, 2018
It wasn’t obvious that I should go after her. My romantic gut pushed me in that direction, sure. It was telling me to walk up to her, pick her up, and take her home. It was an instinctive part of my lizard brain. She’s mine, the romantic gut thought. It had been wronged all those years ago and saw an opportunity for the universe to restore balance.
Thankfully, my brain was still in charge. My romantic gut was thinking with chivalrous roots, and none of that was appropriate or practical or smart. She didn’t belong to me, or this new guy. She’d made the decisions that got her where she was. Leaving me was one of them. I had to respect that, because I had to respect her, even if I didn’t fully understand.
So instead I stood in her hallway near a staircase full of her new friends and drank the beer I didn’t bring. It was disgusting. What was this?