Knowing and feeling

 “Let him go...”

It’s not that I don’t want to let go and move on. It’s that, if it were that simple, I would have done it already.

People talk about “turning the page” as if it were an instant decision, a single click that switches off the pain. But letting go isn’t a single act; it’s an endless sum of small moments where, again and again, you choose not to look back… even when every part of you wants to.

I know he’s gone.

I know he’s not coming back.

I know holding on changes nothing.

But knowing something and feeling it are two different things.

I think, deep down, I’m clinging to the version of myself that existed when he was here. As if letting him go would mean losing that part of me, too.

Maybe I don’t want to move forward because I can’t see what waits on the other side of this pain and at least, missing him feels familiar.

Or maybe I just need more time.

And maybe… that’s okay.