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When I was thinking of whether or not to write her, I thought: She will think I am missing her. She will think of it as a surrender, and that I now realize I was wrong. She will think I am capitulating. She will think of it as an opportunity to humiliate me.


If I look at those things that I imagined in her: humiliate, capitulate, lack, surrender, were ideas in me.


All of those thoughts in me were giving her the win I believe she needs and has sought over me. My prostration before her. In my own head.


And in each and every thought I was doing it to myself.


I see now that what she wants does not matter to me one iota. Everything she ever did was about her: Not about me. I do not have to accept it.


I am thinking of Cedar's D H here with respect to his own siblings. He could care less their machinations. He does not permit it to touch him. He could care less. Unless it does. I forget the exact words of the Michael Corleone 3. My circle is small. Show me respect. Don't Fxxk me over.


I am thinking back these 3 years: I have turned into Michael Corleone.


COPA


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