Moving On

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m wondering if the person I moved on from a year ago is awake thinking about the same things I am.

When is moving on, moving on?

When does the on and off become so painful that moving on is what’s best?

When is enough, enough?

It’s enough when you become a person you aren’t.

When you have to convince yourself that the better, is better than the worse.

When you are basically on your knees for a person who won’t even bend over for you.

I have a tough time showing that I care. I will be the first to admit it. And I tend to screw over the people I love the most. I don’t think twice before hurting someone and I don’t think twice before apologizing to avoid the consequences of my actions. And the moment someone doesn’t forgive me, I break.

Moving On has never been in my vocabulary. I love and love because feelings linger and I fail to understand that someone might be better without me. Or that I might be better without them.

What is Closure?

Going months without speaking to a person yet thinking of them every day. Or knowing that no one will understand your weirdness the way they did. That no one will lick your toes or get you ice water in the middle of the night.

It’s 4 a.m. and I’m crying on the inside and the out because I miss you. Do you miss me? Are you even awake, or are you sleeping like a baby? If you are awake, are you thinking about me the way that I am thinking of you?

I’m trying. Really hard. To Move on. To forget. To change. To grow. Because it’s what’s best for you. And I hate that I know it’s what’s best for me.
See you soon,