“it’s already done,” that’s what he said, and my brain just latched onto it, like a little mental tick, running through every possible scenario of what was done, who said it, what it meant for me, for them, even though i know logically it was about something trivial, probably a task at the startup that just needed to be checked off, but the impulse to dissect and predict every single ripple used to consume me, used to make my stomach clench so hard it felt like a fist, and i'd spend hours mentally rehearsing responses to things that haven't even happened and probably never will, which is wild because i actually sat through a full meeting today without my leg bouncing under the table for the first time in what feels like forever, just sat there, present, letting the words come and go, even the ones that used to set off alarm bells, and there's this weird hum behind my eyes now, not tension, just... presence, a steady thrum, like the engine of something big and good finally settling into a rhythm that isn't about constant escape or defense. and yes, a tiny part of me still wants to scroll back through my sent emails just to make absolutely sure it went, even though i know it did, but the bigger part, the one that feels like it just woke up, that part just smiles at the absurdity of it all and chooses to let it go.