Move On
Some people would wonder how it could be possible for someone to like a person for so long without so much as speaking to her for more than ten seconds in his entire lifetime. I wonder the exact same thing. I used to feel incredibly frantic and helpless near her, even the thought of her made my knees weak. I used to think about her every day, and in actual fact I still do, but now I feel less affected by it.I thought I would never see or hear from her again. It used to drive me crazy, not knowing what could or could not have been, because I left an opportunity hanging, never once wanting to take the initiative. There were too many regrets, because I had left it to Fate to decide how it would all play out, and Fate had dealt a cruel hand to me, or so I had thought at that time. I was too fearful, too ignorant to realise that I was looking for signs in everything when there were none, too stubborn to heed the warning signs that something was not quite right.
After graduation, I still harboured that small flame for her. I don't really know how but I managed to keep it alive, both willingly and unwillingly at the same time. How that was possible I still do not know. Even though I had been forced to move on, even though all I had was nothing more than memories, that flame burned, thriving on what reserves of hope I still had, that maybe , just maybe, there was a slight chance I could be with her, that no matter how slight, it was still a chance.
I wonder how many thought me a fool, to hold on for so long with so little. It was a touching story, but nothing more than that. I thought myself a fool, but I still held on, hoping that there would be a chance that something would happen. What a hopeless romantic I was, believing in happy endings. Logically I would have given up long ago, but the emotional part of me always overrules, because I am someone who believes that the world will move for love. In some respects I still believe in that, but just not for me.
Until recently I had been wallowing in no more than memories and lost chances, until I found a window to her present. I wonder if it would have been better to never have found that window, to continue wallowing in misery and self-torment, living in my twisted but happy state of mind, playing out all the what-ifs to my satisfaction. But perhaps it was a good thing, because now I don't feel shackled by this false dream. I know where she is now, so I no longer worry about how she's doing. She's in a good place, still troubled but with good company to be there for her when she needs them. At first I was dizzy with excitement, because I had so many things I wanted to find out. But now I have time to take a step back and see that maybe things were never meant to be.
I gave her the choice of contacting me and it appears that she has chosen to pretend that nothing happened. I do not know if there was any form of idscussion or debate behind it but I am strangely glad to have been ignored, because I was never really there in the first place. Do I have a right to suddenly want to be a part of her life? I don't find myself worthy, because I have never wanted to try before. Fears and suspicions gradually become clearer to me as I find out more about her, and all the more they paint this less perfect picture of her than I used to have.
I feel that I have the strength to move on now. Strength enough to stop this unsuppressable obsession I used to have. Finally knowing that I do not exist to her has enabled me to let this one-sided flame die out. I know it would have wanted to, rather than continue it's sputtering, struggling fight in the old system of blissful ignorance. The hope will never go away, but at least I am no longer eating away at it like an incurable disease.
Whatever happens from here onwards, I will leave it to Fate. If Fate would have our paths cross for the third time, then I will follow the flow of things and see where that takes me. If we never meet again, then I will forget her, forget until she becomes no more than an empty reminder that my wasted heart once felt for. Yes, it is about time I moved on.
At last, I feel free.