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And I wasn’t going to do that.
I’m going to fix Joe myself.
I’m going to find out what’s really going on inside his head.
The devil on my other shoulder kept it much more simple.
Why did we break up?
I went to college.
He played hockey.
And that was it?
That was the end of it all?
I took a deep breath.
I knew questioning the past wasn’t good.
So I called it quits on any attempt at work.
I even skipped pouring another glass of wine, exchanging my wine glass for a bottle of water.
Steven was working late again.
I had the place to myself.
It felt like the perfect chance to watch some trashy dating shows.
As I plopped down on the couch and began to scroll, I ended up casually going to the sports section. And then casually turning on theSOLA Empiregame.
They were losing by three goals.
And I turned it on just in time to see them give up another goal.
A few seconds later, Joe’s name was brought up.
The team missed their gigantic defenseman.
They needed him on the bench and on the ice to get things moving for the team.
I didn’t take on any guilt for the reason Joe wasn’t there but I also didn’t feel completely comfortable at all with the situation.
Somewhere in my head I pictured sitting with Joe and tearing him apart - with words and my skills - just to feel the satisfaction of telling an ex what a loser he was.
I turned the hockey game off and went to bed.
It almost felt like the most boring and unproductive night of my life.
I took victory in knowing I kept temptation at bay.
What temptation?
Well.
The wine, for starters.
