“Try to make me as anxious as possible.”

We had broken up a month earlier, but decided to spend Thanksgiving together as friends. On the first day, she tells me about her new partner. I ask. She shares.

A pang stabs my stomach. At first I thought it might be food poisoning. I sit down on the sidewalk and hold my stomach. 

…

The feeling comes back the next evening as we’re eating with my family. I resist it again. We go for a walk by the sea, and, holding that sharp weight in my stomach, I ramble at her incoherently. 

An hour in, I’m reminded of a recent experience with my neck pain. It had been so cramped I could barely turn my head. After two days of this, I made a counterintuitive discovery: some relief came when I carefully stretched into the pain as much as I could tolerate, and tried to feel it fully. Would the same work here?

I exclaim, “OH! Tell me as much as you're willing about him and your relationship. Try to make me as anxious as possible.” 

She starts listing details, and I feel into everything she says. 

Before, I was vaguely anxious and I didn’t know why. But now, I know precisely what is activating these strong feelings in me. I take notes and plan to use the list as a guide for investigating my unconscious predictions later.

…Until, finally, we're done. Neither she, I, nor my anxiety has anything more to add or ask. My anxiety has run out (free energy minimized!) and there is nothing confusing or painful about the situation anymore. She notices. I’m finally able to hug her without shaking.

A feeling of completeness ensues. Insecurities found. 

“Thank you.”