The Moment You Realize It’s Time To Move On


“You should move on.”
Everyone keeps on telling me that I should forget you—that you weren’t all that much and that I’ll find someone else— someone much better for me than you ever could be.  
I can’t. 
I can’t. Not just because it takes so much time and effort to forget someone who made a difference in your life in such a short time, or because you could make me laugh while I was crying, or because you gave me nuggets of wisdom while giving me small doses of reality as well, or because you helped me find out who I really am. I’m afraid forget you. Yes, I’m afraid; so scared that I won’t ever find someone who makes me feel like you did… and still do, scared that I’ll keep looking for you in everyone I meet ten years down the road, and so scared that you won’t ever come back to me if I forget you now. 
It’s stupid, my notion of thinking. I’m still holding on to you—to someone who isn’t there anymore—someone who pinned everything on me and then left me with just a few words: “I don’t think we should talk anymore.” But despite all that, I’m still stupid enough to keep harboring these feelings for you, and still stupid enough to hold out on the hope that you’ll come back to me like you did before. I’m still hoping for something that might never come true; that’s my problem. 
How can I move on from this when everything I see and do reminds me of you; makes me want to tell you everything like I did before?  Even the smallest things remind me of you, especially marshmallows. Who in their right mind would break down crying in a grocery store after seeing marshmallows? No one; just me. I think I’m touched in the head. 
I messaged you again today, I told you that I missed talking to you when what I really missed was you. Two months had passed and it’s so unfair that I’m still not over you when you were never fazed in the first place. I began my message with something along the lines of “I don’t know if you still remember me” and that I missed talking to you, and your reply made my heart flutter again.

“Of course I do. How could I forget?”

That threw me through a loop, but I didn’t bother to ask what you meant because I was scared that you would say something that would just hurt me. And so we talked for a couple of minutes, until you told me that you were with someone else. I never asked to know that, nor had I hinted that I wanted to get back together (even though deep inside I did), I just wanted to talk, and you saying that clearly meant that it really was over. I never even said goodbye or that it was nice talking to you again, I just pulled out of the conversation and tried to put on a happy façade for my friends and family when I felt anything but.

Through all this, what’s left of my heart is still slowly breaking in my chest. Why? Because I know that back where you are, you don’t feel the same; you never have and you probably never will. 
And now I realize: I should really move on.