Chapter 3 | Entry Thirty-One

"Sometimes the body knows before the mind catches up,

screaming NO when the heart still whispers maybe."

For three days, I live in clarity.

I wake up and my body feels different. Settled. Like something that's been clenched for months finally let go.

I make my coffee and leave my phone on the counter, unchecked. I sit in my cozy chair and watch the light move across the room and I'm not waiting for anything. Not hoping. Not scanning. Just...here.

I go shopping for a new dress just because I want to and a woman smiles at me. I smile back. We chatted for a little while about a dress we were both looking at, we loved how the lace complimented the simplicity of the linen.

I feel full. Complete. Mine.

I meet a friend for lunch and she asks how I'm doing and I say, "Good. Really good," and I mean it. My shoulders are down. My breath is easy. I'm not performing wellness or pretending I'm fine. I actually am.

My body knows something now that my mind is still catching up to: I don't need to be chosen to be whole.

I'm already whole.

And then my phone buzzes.

A text from an ex.

Can I call you? Let me talk to you.

I stare at the screen. My chest tightens, not with longing, but with recognition. This is the test. This is the moment where I find out if what I just claimed is real.

I breathe. My body steadies.

I text back: OK, I will listen to what you have to say.

When his voice comes through, it's exactly how I remember. Deep with his sexy accent. My stomach flips and I'm not sure if it's excitement or not but I'm curious.

"I've been thinking about you," he says. "I know we ended things, but I can't stop thinking about you, we are good together."

I don't say anything. Just listen.

"You're different from anyone I've met," he continues. "The way you understand things, I haven't found that anywhere else. And you're even cute when you're angry. You're kind and graceful. Your emotions are wild, but I love them. You're beautiful and everyone looks at you when you walk by. I miss you. Let me see you."

My breath catches. I remember his hands. His laugh. The fancy dinners where I felt like a princess. Walking beside him and feeling protected, safe, seen. The way our conversations used to continue into the early morning.

The passion...the passion was intense, real. The values aligned. We weren't wrong about that.

But before my mind can start building the bridge back, I ask the question.

"Do you want to get married one day?"

Silence. Then: "I'm not sure. I don't know if that's something I want."

My chest tightens. My shoulders pull in.

But he keeps talking. "Can we just meet? In person? Let me see you. Let's talk face to face. I miss you."

And I hear myself say, "Okay."

The day comes. I'm standing in front of the mirror, lipstick in hand, and my body is screaming.

My chest is tight. My stomach is turning. Something in me is saying NO so loudly I can't ignore it.

I set the lipstick down. Look at myself. And I know.

I text him: I can't meet you. I'm sorry.

No long explanation. No justification. Just clarity.

I sit on the edge of my bed, phone in my lap, and realize something.

My intuition didn't whisper this time.

It screamed.

And I finally heard it.

—Still here, still listening, still trusting what I know