First, you hate all the people telling you to move on with your life because you think they are pitying you with their awkward calls and sudden desire to see you.You think you have moved on and they are the ones behind, who need to move (preferably away from you)
Then you sit your sad self down on a sunny afternoon and you give yourself the talk. ‘You are neither his wife nor his mother, what do you expect her to do, if you are weeping like this’. You try to remember the number of times you thought he didn’t treat you right, you try to hate him.
One Saturday morning, you suddenly feel the urge to plait your hair and press your dress. And you do just that, right before going to your favorite restaurant to have brunch. Everyone thinks they are proud of you, they tell you you look radiant and that you are strong.
You always laugh when people say you are strong. If only they knew the effort it took to bury sadness beneath fake radiance. The same effort you put into burying his memories.
You have decided to never remember him again. You have gotten rid of images, of chats, of clothes, of memories….the same memories you fought so hard to preserve initially. You don’t even want to hear his name or speak of him ever again. You think you deserve to be happy, to live….after all you did not kill him, you didn’t cheat, you didn’t lie. He was the one who bailed out of the relationship.
Moving on isn’t as easy as they say “move on”. Soon you start yearning for the attention and care they were giving you. You want them to call and ask how you are doing. You want them to bring you food and say all those annoying words to you; ‘God has a reason for everything……you need to move on….he would want you to be happy….he’s in a better place….’ But they have all moved on and left you behind.
Soon you find a shoulder to lean on but only for a short while…
You soon discover that there isn’t anything like ‘moving on’. It’s a fallacy, at the same time you discover the hidden black box in your heart where you can lock up all the things you don’t want to feel. It’s working for you, sometimes the door cracks open and all the prohibited feelings start flying all around…yet it is still working. You haven’t perfected the act yet but you are getting better at securing the locks everyday. But should you really be securing the locks? Deep down, you know this isn’t the way to go but what are your options? This is beyond you. When or how does all of this end?