Moving on is not choosing to forget about someone’s entire existence.
Neither is throwing away all the love letters, anniversary gifts and burning the pictures.
And don’t let them tell you that is as easy as deleting their number from your phone.

However, it is walking on a path past their house and no longer hoping to see them.
Moving on is wearing those high heels he didn’t like you wearing because they made you the same height as him.
It’s watching that movie you two always used to watch when you slept over at his house, but no longer crying at it.

Moving on is asking that boy you know that you seen at the club the other night out.
It’s finding the confidence to tell that boy that you didn’t find him attractive just because your body was swimming in vodka.
And it’s letting him kiss your forehead and hold your hand without remembering how your ex did it.

Moving on is realising that eventually you won’t remember the colour of your exes eyes.
It’s coping with the fact that one day you’ll be angry because you forgot what his favourite cologne was.
And it’s definitely about wearing that bracelet he bought you for your 18th birthday that you haven’t worn since your last date with him.

Eventually you’ll forget how he used to hold you when you cried and let someone else do it.
And soon enough you’ll be okay with it.

listen.
i know you’re hurt. while i haven’t felt it as strongly or as long as you have, i know what it feels like when someone you love doesn’t want you anymore. you were there.

i remember my dad telling me that it’s like having all your organs rearranged. he is right.

and the difference between us is that i’ve sewed all my organs back into place, and the ones i couldn’t i nurtured and allowed to stay there.
i think you’re still trying to remember where yours went before us.

i am mad. mad that you’ve put me through post breakup drama for the past two years, made me struggle with the realization that you’re still in love with the idea of who i was when you left me two years ago.
but i know what that pain is like, when someone doesn’t love you.

and that’s why i can’t tell you i’m doing this for you. because i want you to stop hurting.
because i know that i love you enough as a person that i will let you in again and the cycle will start anew. my kindness, or perhaps selfishness, will hold you back from ever healing.

i want you to be truly happy. and i can’t be a part of that right now.