Moving On

Moving On

A Story by becca

This short story is somewhat based on real life. I feel that to properly "move on", trying to make up a second perspective or accurately portray one would be helpful to truly make sense of it all.


The sun rays of a delicate winters morning peak through the floral curtains of a dull window, it’s morning yet it feels anything but. The ceiling; it’s more inviting than any face that could greet you but you don’t let it bother you. You forgot who you were for a little and it seems to happen every morning now when the image of her face comes back. A swift movement to duck your head under your pillow occurs. She makes you vain, her presence lingers though you try to push her out. She claims for things to “go back to normal”, whatever that means.

While lazily rising your head from beneath your pillows, you realize that today is the day. It’s the day that you start taking up writing again, with so much time and nothing to do, to be occupied would be unusual but greatly needed. She’s not on your mind, but she’s there and it never truly seems to fade. Trying to come to some sort of conclusion regarding her just leads to more confusion so you decided it’s best to just push it down, after all, you don’t really know how to handle it any better than this.

Sitting down at your desk with your fingers ready to type, it’s quite an exciting and eager feeling but it seems to be washed out as your fingers don’t move; they sit on their respective keys. Thoughts of what to say rush in your head but none of them are poetic, it’s just her. Not realizing this outcome you shut down your computer. You find it useless to be creative if anything you can create is about her and only her.

You mumble to yourself, “I haven’t even talked to her, she shouldn’t mean anything to me. She’s just another person and one I have to forget at that.”
Something like this should come easy to you, it’s not necessarily your strong suit but it’s a routine that you’ve gotten used to. You try not to remember the good times for they’ve gone bitter beyond your control. Laying back down feels like a decision far better than any other, every avenue of communication is a reminder and seeing her active makes the scar in your chest a little deeper every time. You decide that it’s better to separate from her which can be done by taking your friends away from her, you still don’t want to hurt her but the feeling that she deserves it remains.

She wants in the group, it only makes sense. They’re her friends too but you can’t help but think that you must be separate, that no matter what communication must be closed to distract from the sad truth. Even if she wants to move past all of this the cut is still raw. You wish she’d just stop trying, that whatever is going on in her head would stop eating at her and making her so desperate. The idea that you could even move on to feel normal is so abstract, it seemed simpler when the time came but it has passed and here it remains, confused and distant.

Normalcy sets in, but not the way you would have previously expected. It’s true that you also wanted things to go back to normal but with the way people grow and the way you wanted to grow, away from her, it didn’t happen. You can’t help but feel it’s your fault, one of the few things that actually were your fault in this endeavor. You don’t necessarily regret what you did with her at the time, it was love but just not at the right time or with the right person and you have to live with that. The worry of leading her on is the only thought bouncing around your head when you communicate with her. She’s not your every thought, slowly the idea drifts away more and more and the only feeling left is a void where the love used to be. You have other things to keep you company, I mean, you have your friends after all. They don’t even have the slightest clue that there’s any stigma between you two, just that a drift has occurred. It's the truth but one that has to be kept up so the scar goes away as fast as possible. You hope one day the pain will end one way or another, that you find peace or something else more favorable.

This will never truly be over. Looking back will always send a shock of nostalgia down your spine no matter how hard you try. You hope one day it won’t feel sour, and you know that one day she hopes that you’ll come back to her but the future is uncertain yet you know how you feel. To go back before all of this and keep her as a friend would be a blessing, keeping the love secret made it so much sweeter and special than anything else.
“Ugh…”, you groan realizing that trailing off made you feel fond of her for a split second. It feels wrong because it is wrong so you feel like you’ve made an error in your thoughts. It’s a downward spiral that makes you wish you could jump off of the staircase into an abyss of emptiness, maybe then your head would be empty and you could forget her.

Everything suddenly goes dark as you’ve fallen asleep. It’s the only real peace you get nowadays since the motion of life is quite tiring and thoughts left ringing in your head are almost deafening. As the sleep cures your worries, you forget the day letting yourself calm.

© 2020 becca

Author's Note

I feel that the ending is somewhat forced but that's only a result of not having much happening in the present to base the rest of the story off of. I hope you felt meaning in this, it felt a bit too long to post but being able to make sense of a past situation by seeing his perspective was helpful for myself at least. Thank you for reading :)

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Added on April 5, 2020
Last Updated on April 5, 2020
Tags: breakup, short story, love, moving on




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