They say there are five stages to moving on…
And the last. Acceptance.
The stages have been named. They’ve been defined. They’ve been explained.
Yet the length that a person should or would go though each stage is still unknown.
So how do I know it’s over? How do I know I’ve moved on?
It’s been more than two months already yet it still stings.
It still feels just like yesterday when I had my heart broken.
He wasn’t even my first boyfriend yet it felt like I just had my first real heartache.
There are days when I feel like I’ve already moved on.
There are moments when I feel totally fine and better off without you.
Then I would see your name on my timeline… Then bam!
A voice in my head would just tell me “Here we go again…”
It’s like I’m always back to the starting line.
I wanna reach the finish line. I wanna end this race. I wanna run fast.
I wanna finish this one and start another journey.
A new one that would be totally worth my energy and time.
A run that I wouldn’t have to finish alone.
Yet I don’t have the strength to even carry my own legs.
Yes I can walk, sometimes I even feel myself jogging.
I try. I really do try my best to make it to the finish line.
But sometimes, I just feel like going back to the start line is my only option.
Whenever I feel lost, instead of taking risks… Instead of diving into the unknown…
Instead of moving forward… I always go back.
I know I just have to want to finish the race bad enough to even start running.
But I always go back… I go back because it’s what’s familiar.
I go back because I still hope that maybe, just maybe, this time, you’ll take my hand and finish the race with me.
Maybe that’s the problem. Because maybe I don’t wanna move on. Maybe I don’t wanna forget.
Maybe I still love you no matter how many times I keep on telling myself that I don’t want you anymore.
Maybe I still do. Despite the pain, I still want to finish this race with you.
Will you run with me please? And never leave my side?