I didnât move on.
I just learned how to live with it.
Every day I act normal,
but inside, the same feelings stay awake.
Memories show up without warning,
and my heart still reacts like itâs day one.
I laugh, I talk, I functionâ
but some part of me is stuck in the past.
Not because I want to suffer,
but because letting go feels harder than holding on.
This isnât weakness.
Itâs what happens when something meant too much.