I admit it: I dwell. I don’t mean to. I would love to just move on, but that’s hard for me. Instead, I constantly think about what I could’ve done differently. I wonder what I did wrong. I try to reimagine those moments and keep them even though they disappeared months before.
I’m easily reminded of pieces of my past. Nostalgia gets to me and never really stops.
Until I find something better.
In my moments of dwelling, I used to think I’d found nothing better than what fell apart because I couldn’t get anything better. I somehow convinced myself that I had already achieved the most that I ever could. That I already met the people I clicked with the most. That I couldn’t move forward, only take a few steps back.
When I think of “moving on,” I think about coming to turns with something. Not being happy. Not feeling fulfilled. But accepting the fact that things aren’t the way they used to be and dealing with it.
And if that were the case, the whole notion of “moving on” would suck. I’m not sure if anyone else thinks about it that way, but I only ever thought that I could “move on.” I never really considered the possibilities of moving forward.
Until I allowed myself to have something more.
Because the world doesn’t just hand you everything you want. You have to go find it for yourself.
Dwelling stopped me from searching. From finding. From discovering.
Something better wasn’t just going to appear out of nowhere if I didn’t go out there and try to make something happen again.
It wasn’t impossible to find something better. It was actually easy. I just had to go out into the world and take a chance on people.
It’s not the same as before. My memories still resurface. But this time, I won’t obsess over what I could’ve done better. I’ll keep trying and learning. I’ll do better.