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On moving on.

Perhaps there is really nothing wrong with not being able to move on from something or someone, be it my best friend, be it yh, or myself.

We plunge into it, snap out of it, and plunge again. It doesn't sound too difficult to stop all these but as a matter of fact, it is. I don't think it is because the mind is not strong enough. I think it is because within ourselves there is this void that was once filled with happiness, and not moving on is merely a longing for those happy moments. After all, longings are simply longings for happy yesterdays, right?

Even if all that is left is misery, it doesn't make us want to move on, for we would rather that void be filled with sadness than have it replaced by emptiness.

We refuse to move on, because we yearn for the return of the lost.
Because we want to be happy.
And there is nothing wrong with wanting to be happy.

Nonetheless, not moving on doesn't mean not opening up new chapters of life.

I say, how ironic, how complex.

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