Usually at times like these, I have a very numb feeling, like the heart has collapsed upon itself and I am unwelcome in my own body.
This time around, something else is happening. I don’t feel bad in any part of my body – in fact, I feel free from concern. It’s my head that’s aching, constantly thinking about her.
Given that my apartment is a filthy mess, that I’m incapable of doing anything for myself, and that the only species I can claim superiority over is that of law students (h/t Amber), I think I need to be worried. I’m a lazy slob probably because I genuinely believe, in my crude way, that mind comes first, and if the mind is telling me something, I might need to reconsider certain things.
Still, a decision made is a decision made. The extent of reconsidering is contingent on another factor, perhaps.