means something different to many. i’m still not entirely sure what it means to me. at the time it was told to me, i was delusional and continued in that state for a long time, not because i wanted to be in it, but because i didn’t know. 

when the people who’ve been close to me have died, i didn’t cry, not then nor afterward. generally, my tears find themselves disproportionately assigned to the living, and when i think of ‘moving on’, it strikes me as a death wish. i’m aware that’s not its intended meaning, but meanings and interpretations can for me be like a room filled with tiny spiders, and i have a talent for bringing out emotional arachnophobia in others and myself due to the intensity with which i can be inclined to communicate. i’m not a spider summoner but neither do i avoid feeding them with thought. 

in the process of what i believed was moving on, i came to realize that nothing is wrong with who i am, and i hate to admit it, but i also had to learn that the world will not bend to my wishes, and perhaps more truthfully, some of my wishes were selfish. but this isn’t written to be a confessional, it’s to share what i believe moving on to be for me, and to express that i often need to take inventory to be real about whether i’m amassing spider eggs in my heart.

if moving on were death, i wouldn’t cry, so moving on isn’t letting go, it’s just letting be.

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