After Ethan ate his dinner, he put the plates in the sink, he went into the living room, sat on the sofa. He switched on the television, but kept it low as a kind of white noise.
He was proud of himself.
He had the strength, he had the comprehension, and he had recognised the reality that existed beyond himself. He let thoughts of the moment he cut Donna’s call and blocked her from his life wrap him in a blanket.
He didn’t do a reflection of what and why and when and how so as to ‘explain’ to himself the why. He didn’t need to explain. He didn’t need a rehash.
He needed to let this moment of self fill every cell in his body so that he would never be where he was this morning.
Not that he thought about this morning, or why he had blocked the call and deleted her, he didn’t. He sat there loving himself. Loving his ability to take control of his life.