[ x - accepting / @no2typebe ] “eventually… you just move on.”
Move on… Yes, he supposed that was the natural progression of things. Of grief. The time which one mourned, eventually, as all things did, coming to an end… just as the seasons did. Just as life, and its endless flow from one point, to another, and another after that.
The past, though its memories were scarce - it haunted him. What he did not know - what he did not remember. Smiles, but no faces. Voices, but no words. Friends, but who were they? What were their names? Rather than live, rather than accept the fact that what once was was no more and move on, instead did he long to remember. A terrible yearning clasping his heart - the organ itself absent from his chest, from a body that was no longer there, but one whose presence was felt all the same.
No… No, he supposed he had not moved on… nor did he wish to… but, was that the right choice? Was he a shining example, or a pitiful reminder of what grief could do to one's soul?
" How do you move on though..? " The cheery voice, the optimism abound, it was quieter than usual. Softer, whilst the moonlit skies drew heavy eyes of stone. " What if everything you love is back there? You can't let go of it… can you? "
