Move On

It’s one of life’s quiet little heartbreaks. The moment you realize someone meant far more to you than you ever meant to them. You remember the conversations, the laughs, the moments you thought mattered. Then you discover they barely remember you at all.

It’s an oddly embarrassing feeling. Your mind immediately starts asking uncomfortable questions. *Did I imagine the friendship? Did I care too much? Was I reading more into those moments than they ever did?*

Maybe none of those things are true. Maybe people simply experience relationships differently. We all carry different memories, attach different meanings, and hold on to different people. But even knowing that doesn’t erase the sting of finding out you were a much smaller part of someone else’s story than they were of yours.

And so what does one do?

Move on.

Occam’s razor. The simplest answer is usually the right one. It doesn’t mean it’s easy. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. It just means there’s nothing else to do.

We waste a lot of time trying to earn someone’s friendship, love, or closeness. Then you have to truly open yourself up to yourself and come to the realization that you have to move on.

That’s the theme of this post today: **Move on.**

It’s not easy. It’s not something anyone wants to go through. You have to let yourself feel those emotions before you can make it to the other side.

The problem is, the other side is undiscovered. That’s what creates the anticipation, and anticipation isn’t always a good thing. It’s scary. It’s lonely. You don’t know what life looks like over there until you finally find your footing.

I’ve been trying to get to that other side for a long time now. But I’m finally realizing that’s exactly what has to be done.

Because there is no other answer.

Moving on doesn’t mean throwing away all your memories or suddenly turning against that person in your mind. It doesn’t mean pretending they never mattered or convincing yourself they were a terrible person.

It’s a sober realization that things are what they are.

I don’t think it’s something anyone can teach you. It’s something you have to live through. You can hear the words a hundred times. People can tell you to “just move on,” but until you’ve wrestled with it yourself, those words don’t really mean anything.

Acceptance isn’t a lesson. It’s an experience.

And when it finally comes, it isn’t loud or dramatic. It’s quiet. It’s the moment you stop fighting reality and simply accept it for what it is.

The other side is unknown. That’s what makes it so hard. We want guarantees before we take the first step, but life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes you just have to start walking and trust that eventually you’ll find your footing.

You’ve just got to take a leap of faith. As cliché as that sounds, it happens to be true. You don’t know what’s waiting for you until you’re willing to leave behind what’s keeping you stuck.

But I’m not perfect. I’m still going through this process because moving on isn’t a one-size-fits-all experience.

I was reminded of that not too long ago when I realized someone I’d hoped would still be there... wasn’t. Not because they didn’t like me. Not because anything bad happened. Life had simply moved on.

It was one of those quiet moments where I had to tell myself, *Put this away, Jerry. It’s way overdue.*

Sometimes that’s the hardest part. Not accepting that someone is gone, but accepting that you’ve been carrying them around long after they stopped occupying that space in your life.

I still find myself going back sometimes, wishing, hoping, wondering what was, or what could have been. Wondering if I got it wrong. Wondering if things could have turned out differently.

I think that’s part of moving on too. It’s rarely a straight line. Some days you take a few steps forward, and other days your mind wanders back. The important thing is that, little by little, you’re spending less time looking behind you and more time looking ahead.

Maybe that’s the lesson I’ve been trying to learn all along.

Stop worrying where you’re going. Move on.

Because if you already knew what was waiting on the other side, it wouldn’t require faith. It wouldn’t require courage.

As Stephen Sondheim wrote:

“Just keep moving on.

If you could know where you’re going, you’ve gone.”