He sits with the truth he’s been avoiding that she’s no longer in this. She’s not interested, not looking back, not holding space for whatever they once shared. Whatever they had she’s moved past it. He can feel the hard truth setting in.
This should have been over long ago. Nothing was ever going to come from it. He knows that. He’s not arguing with reality anymore. But even with that clarity, there’s still a pull in him. He remembers how it felt and what it could’ve been. He won’t pretend it didn’t matter. It did.
He’s not angry at her. He’s not even angry at himself. He’s simply acknowledging the truth without spinning it into a story that isn’t there. She’s out and she’s gone.
He’ll still keep going though. He always does. He’ll focus on what’s in front of him, handle his commitments, stay disciplined. That’s who he is. That’s who he’s had to be.
He’ll remember her and at some point it won’t hurt as much, hopefully.