Projection does not yield to intention. You cannot decide to take one back — that grammatical construction already lies, because it implies the ego is in charge of the timing. Von Franz is precise here: the energy withdraws first, and only then does reflection become possible. The moment of ripe opportunity is not created by effort but discovered in the aftermath of something that already happened — love souring, hatred turning faintly absurd to its own host. That last detail is the more interesting one. When you catch yourself hating and find the hatred has gone slightly ridiculous, something in the soul has quietly disinvested. The figure you were raging at has lost the charge it was carrying for you, which means the charge was never quite theirs to begin with.

This is where the soul's investment in suffering through another person becomes audible. The projection sustained something — it organized the world, distributed blame and longing with apparent precision, kept the inner figure alive by clothing it in a real face. What the withdrawal exposes is not error but the earlier need: you were that absorbed in the other person because something in you required the arrangement. The recognition available in the ripe moment is not therapeutic triumph; it is simply the next honest observation the soul can bear to make.