And Freud is always talking about mothers so maybe it’s something to do with that. I bend every narrative to suit the one that suggests he still wants me, scrolling down the list of people who have watched my Instagram story to see if he has, because if so then I can tell myself that he hasn’t quite let me go because he still wants to see what I’m up to. If he hasn’t that doesn’t really matter either because I’ll just pretend that he can’t watch my story as it will make him miss me too much. ‘Why did he do it?’ I ask people, but I never like their answers.
