February 05, 2012

Moving On

I've always said: Sometimes you need a good kick in the pants to reset your life.

This was true when I got laid off from Atlantic and JibJab, fired from CMJ, and treated so horribly at Razor & Tie that I was forced to quit. All good changes. None of those jobs were lifetime commitments. I had to move on.

The same can be said for people as well as jobs. I've had to let some friends go. It took me long enough, but I had to sever ties with my parents.

But I've never been very good at moving on from my past crushes, romances, and full-blown loves. I would've stayed attached to many of them if I hadn't graduated from high school and gone away to college, or graduated from college and moved to New York.

But in New York, I had 14 years to dwell on every one night stand, every third date that never made it to fourth, every makeout, take out, dinner, dance, taudry affair, bartender romance. Even if they got married, had babies, moved away, and moved on from me, I was still there, surrounded by the reminders of whatever we did together, wherever. The glass he drank out of. The bed he slept in. The things he left behind.

And then, a year ago, I got to move away from it all.

And moving away allowed me to move on.


Some feelings still linger, about the one that got away, and the one who wouldn't take the world I tried to give him. But at least I'm not reminded as often as I used to be, living in New York. I've moved on as much as I can.

But when you love someone, do you ever really move on? Can you ever? I don't understand falling out of love as much as I don't really understand falling in love. I still love the same colors, movies, music, foods as I have always loved, even since childhood. In my heart, there is no such thing as used to love. I still do. Despite everything.

But what does "moving on" truly mean? Getting over it? Or just finding someone else to distract you, to spend time with, to get your heart broken over, all over again? In my world, there is no rebound guy because they're all rebound guys from the guy before them. I am still rebounding from January 2011. I am still rebounding from May 2008. I am still rebounding from December 2004.

Unfortunately, when I moved to LA, though I left behind a lot of heartbreak in New York, I moved into a whole new world of heartbreak to get over and move on from. And I'm trying to do that, but he's here, and I'm here, and as hard as I try, since I plan on staying here and not moving again, I haven't been able to find someone else who measures up. I haven't been able to find someone else who wants me as much as he used to.

But I have constant glimmers of hope: with every phone number, dinner bought, lunch date, and kiss goodnight, it seems that there's a chance for me to find happiness with a new person, in this new place.

Wanting to move on is the first step. And if my kiss goodnight from my dinner date Thursday night is any indication of what may lie ahead for me, I hope it happens soon.

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  1. I think we love who we always loved. I don't think it stops, I think we just make peace with it, with the hurt. It makes us stronger, which is probably why the pain lingers, even if it's just a little. Pain and love, good or bad, have that in common; we need them both, unfortunately, to be strong enough to keep going.

  2. The depth of our grief is the measure of our love. It hurts because it mattered. And you- we- chose to let it matter in the beginning when it all began. It would have been an easier path to reject that love for fear of potentially suffering through a painfully harrowing despair. I say we are brave- no soap box- just the truth. You are beautifully effusive in your writing, your life, and clearly your love. Don't stop... ever. Don't get in your own way, either. Keep on keeping on. Love... a worthy quest.