Moving on was the hardest because you were all I knew. And it wasn’t like they say it is in books, or in movies. Moving on was seeing you every day and learning to be just fine with it. It was seeing you laugh without me. It was seeing you and remembering everything that you said and understanding you didn’t mean a single word of it. It was remembering myself why it didn’t work out. It was trying to look at you without forgetting to breathe. It was missing you and crying myself to sleep every night. It was crying enough tears to fill an ocean and learning to swim on my own. It was throwing myself into everything and trying not to think about the bruises. It was pretending to be happy whenever I saw you at school. It was seeing you and pretending you didn’t rip me open and pretending I didn’t cry when you did. It was seeing you online on social media and not expecting a message from you. It was seeing you kiss her at that party and cheer along everyone else.
It was looking at your Instagram profile and seeing your pictures with your new girl, smiling and kissing. It was learning to be okay with it.
It was learning to not flinch when someone said your name. It was pretending I didn’t care when they told me how happy you were without me. It was pretending I was too. It was waking up every morning with no texts but smiling anyway. It was listening to our songs and trying hard not to think of you. It was kissing strangers trying to fill up the hole you left in me. It was learning to love someone else. It was recreating memories with someone new without fearing to replacing ours. It was looking back at our pictures and smile at the memories. It was being happy with him without forgetting you. It was smiling at the pictures of you and her and not be sad about it. It was stopping to allow our history mean too much to me. It was letting you change the color of your hair, letting you falling in love again. It was being okay with things changing. It was healing slowly until I bloomed again.
It was hearing a song that made me think of you and not feeling the heartache.
It was thinking of you no matter how long it has been. It was leaving space for you in my bed and then realizing you were gone but enjoying the free space anyway. It was learning that my heart was big enough to fill both space in my bed. It was stopping the hope you’d come back. It was stopping to know every details about your life. It was stopping to want to share mine with you. It was singing and dancing it the shower again. It was talking to you again a year later and realizing I was fine. It was letting time heal me. It was realizing that you would be the story I tell my daughter when she is curled up in bed crying at the goodbye that broke her. It was feeling the heartache getting better. It was realizing that everything I did with you, I could do without you. It was learning that people leave and life goes on and be okay with it.
I thought you leaving was the end of the world. But I woke up the next day, the sun had not disappeared and the ocean had not swallowed the earth and trees were still standing. I thought you leaving was the end of the world, and in some way maybe it was.