Moving On

Over, over, over.
Did I ever tell you I hate that word?
But I'm getting used to it now.

It's not so harsh on my lips anymore.
It doesn't sting as bad as it used to.
But no one will see exactly how it does.

Do I miss you? Maybe.
Do I miss us? Without a doubt.
But did I miss the freedom? Yes.

Do you regret us?
Do you regret what we were?
Or do you miss it, even now?

We'll never go back.
I bet we'll never fix whatever happened.
But I no longer feel the need to. Do you?

Running away won't help it.
Moving on is harder than it seems, huh?
Then how did I do it so fast?

Simple. I didn't.
I let go of what I lost, and I'm still stinging.
But I'm moving past it, too.

I live with it every day.
Hurt? Less than before.
Anger? Definitely.

But those are only a couple.
Rememberance? Only good.
Regret? I can't regret it.

You can't regret something that was good.
You shouldn't regret your past, if it changed you.
So, I can't regret us. Because we were good.

You helped shape me as a person.
You're unforgettable.
But you're also out of my grasp.

So, it's time to let it go.
I know now I'll never get past this.
We'll never be what we were.

We can't go back after everything.
All the words that were said still remain.
They cloud the air and don't let us get past them.

I'm moving on.