When You’ve Already Moved On But You Can’t Accept It

Crazy right? Who doesn’t want to move on? Well, not me that’s for sure!
But as crazy as it sounds, it’s happening. The idea revolved around a person who fell in love and got left behind in the dark and alone who was able to finally move on after that but somehow still feels as if he has not.

This is because of the internal struggle that we have with our souls. Take me for example. I have been dreadful for the past 2 months. I moped, I sobbed, I lingered, I stared at wall for hours, crossed a busy street without thinking [and I mean without thinking], fed food to my cheeks because I was in a trance, name it! I have gone through it all and would likely to occur again within the next couple of days.

I got so tired of the shit and I started to shake – like the kind that happens when an earthquake says, “Hi!”. That happened too. And with all of that crappy events, not once did I cry.

As much as I wanted to cry, I couldn’t. I wanted too but somehow by soul was not cooperating with me and I even ended up shouting and talking to myself in public while judgmental eyes gazed on me try to convince myself that,

“It’s okay to cry, Cry! Let the pain be felt! Feel the pain of him leaving you and breaking his promises. Feel it to your core. Shake yourself.”

But not once did I cry.

And it’s tiring right? I certainly would not wish this on someone – even if it’s my worst enemy.

It’s excruciatingly exhausting to your soul that waking up becomes a job and is so annoying. That every time you breathe, it adds weight on your shoulders, making it heavier and heavier to lift your head up and smile. It makes eating unbearable and any sound someone makes other than your headphones become irritating to your ears.

This is what happens when you lose your balance, your core, yourself.

And we all want to get it back. But what if, even though we are still going through all that, we have already moved on?

I asked my friend to berate me and really slap my face with the fact that he is never coming back to say sorry and love me again. That he would never take me back because I have not mourned my loss and I only feel agony yet I cannot cry. I needed to cry to really feel the pain and start healing.

Then he said.

“Maybe you have already moved on but just have not accepted that fact that you did?”

It’s stopped me. Maybe I have had moved on. So I thought about it.

Have I really moved on? That fast? 2 months is not that long right? Or maybe I already did moved on a day, a week, a month after that fateful night of June 26, 8PM at Krispy Kreme? How did I not see that coming nor felt it? How!? Tell me universe how?

So, like all of us, I slept on it. And I realized why.

I hyperbolized our love story. I made myself believe that he was one for the books. I made myself believe that he was the sun to my summer days, the moon on my darkest nights, the breeze on a chilly day, the everything to my something. I did. And I just realized that. How stupid is that, huh? Funny right?

I guess this heartbreak was different from the first one — where I sobbed and cried and walled and did not eat for weeks succeeding our break-up. I guess this time the universe wanted me to stay hydrated and really be happy even if with a loss.

So, I took a deep breath and smile for I finally moved on and I think I can honestly say I don’t remember the asshole anymore. I just remember the memories but not the emotions and much more of the person. I just took it in and hugged it tight and thanked my heartache for not letting me down. It hurts but I can smile now because my scars are still healing and I know it will take more time. But the healing has already started – don’t know how long it has already but I know, I feel it, I’m slowly healing. I would never be the same person because of these scars but isn’t that what’s great about scars? The stories behind them and awesome right? I love my scars.

And I am happy that I have moved on.

How about you?