MOVE ON.

Moving on...
After years of looking back over my
past, and sinking deeper and deeper
into the thoughts, I still wonder
what exactly moving on is? Well,
moving on is not like a birthday, you
cant count the hours till it
arrives. You can’t plan for it to happen. you
don’t even have any idea about  the time  you will
have to spend waiting for it hopelessly.
When moving on happens there will
b no announcements, no
notifications and no
congratulations. There will b no bells
ringing in background; only you will
know. Moving on doesn’t happen in a blink
of eye, in few months, in years or in a
entire lifetime. It will only happen in its
own time when u allows you to move
on.
Moving on is like this; one day u
forget the way they look at you. The next you forget their smell. Then the touch. Then
the laugh. Then the eyes, the hair, the
hands. You forget the beats, the
rhythms and how you sometimes felt like
they all belonged to you. You forget those
words; finally, you forget that voice that
still echoes in your ears. Moving on is
somewhat like you are reading, walking
or looking at your "used to be valuable"
memories, thoughts prevail in your
mind "already seen". Right now, you are a confused person, scrambling to
make sense of things left, trying to
reunite the broken parts of your life
that doesn’t fit into each other.
Maybe its like a fairy tale that
becomes just another book in a shelf;
folded corners and underlined
words the only reminder of how u
used to touch and hold and love it.
You know what I have forgotten the
feeling of having feelings for
someone. The constant
thoughts, nagging and urges.
Knowing that these parts of my life are
out of my control because they don’t feel the
same as I. stupid feelings..Maybe
one day when I think about him i wouldn’t
punish myself for it. Maybe one day I will
tell people that “this cute guy exists" and
not like "this is the person I wish I’d
never met; this is a person who has
made me less of one". Moving on is
not to destroy, or to forget but simply to
move, to leave behind the familiar
dull of heartbreak for the new, the
unknown, the strange read this line
somewhere
"Moving on is like a bird flying
south for the winter who decides
maybe the warmth isn’t so bad, who
decides maybe he will stay there for
awhile; moving on is like freedom, is
what moving on is like."