Move on.

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I used to think that I know what it means. I used to think that I'm fine. I used to think that I'm not tied to the past. I used to think that I've changed. I used to think that I've moved on.

Maybe not. 

I've always think that if I'm not moping and crying and being moody all the time is the sign of moving on. Little did I know, it was like lying to myself. True, I don't fake my laugh or smile. But when before I sleep, when I'm alone even just for a few minutes, I catch myself thinking about the past. It feels a little like I'm trying to fit the past into the present. 

I compared present to the past, despite keep wanting to leave the past for a better future. I've learned from the past, but learning and living in the past is two very different things. I refused to think that I'm not moving on, to think that I'm fine. 

That's a lie. I'm not moving on, at all. I'm good acting that I am; even to myself.


* The past is your life lesson. It's not your present life, neither your future.

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