usad: [noun] slowly progressing • moving forward • scooching (forward)
——————————————————————
Moving on is not linear. It will never be.
I woke up with a heavy heart, and the first thing I thought was, "How?"
How can I move forward?
I stayed in bed for about an hour, thinking of an answer. I remember this specific scene from the movie "The day after valentine's" where Lani (the main character), said;
"Kung gusto mong maka move-on, mag isip ka ng at least sampung bagay na ayaw mo sa kanya (If you want to move on, think of at least 10 things you hate about him),"
And I did. I got out of bed, found a piece of paper and a pen, and started scribbling down some words.
"The Things I Hate About You"
Minutes passed, and my mind was blank. I couldn't think of anything. I know there's something, but I don't have the guts to pinpoint.
"This is useless," I thought to myself as I crumpled the piece of paper that could've potentially help me move on.
I ate my breakfast with my family, as usual. Masking all the emotions that I'm feeling, I laughed as a response to my dad's 'morning jokes.'
After I ate, I chose to stay in bed, once again drowning myself in the thoughts of 'how's and 'why's.
The overwhelming concepts and line of thinking fill my head as I let it. I couldn't find an answer to the thousand 'what if's and many more useless questions that currently inhabit my mind. I thought of reaching out again and reply to those hurtful messages he sent me last night.
"no, you've done that, and look where you are now? Broken as ever." I contemplated as I said those words out loud.
I checked my Facebook to see what was going on. As I was scrolling through my newsfeed, there I saw him posting something funny. I laughed but a thought pained me the most. How can he be so carefree?
Overthinking drowned me for a bit, when I heard my phone,
*bling*
I took my phone as fast as possible and was disappointed to see that the message wasn't from him. "Why would you think he would message you? Dumb bitch.", pissed at myself as I said those words out loud.
How I miss the excitement when I open his 'good morning' messages. 'He never missed one morning.'
As I continued scrolling through my newsfeed, a random thought came to mind.
Does he turn his head when he hears my favorite song on the radio? Does he remember all those random song recommendations? Does he cringe thinking about our petty fights? Does he ever think about that one promise we made about going to the beach and listening to songs together?
Because I do. I do remember the small things, all of them, and I'm wishing and praying that I didn't.
'cause every time I remember those small things, I also remember the times I cried myself to sleep, the times I laid on the cold bedroom floor not knowing what to do and what to feel, the times I overthink about petty things, and everything else in between.
