“Moving On, Moving Forward”

by Adena M’lynn

When she said, “I’m moving on,” 

it sounds like a slammed door—

like goodbye in stilettos

and didn’t bother to glance back.

It feels like you were left

mid-sentence, mid-story,

with your hands still holding

what they’ve already dropped.

Moving on is a decision.

It packs bags, even if they’re still full of pain.

It doesn’t ask if you’re ready—

it just goes.

But when someone says, “I’m moving forward,”

the door’s still open.

It’s a walk, not a run.

It’s carrying the past without dragging it.

It means,

“I still remember.

I still ache.

But I refuse to stay where the air suffocates

and nothing changes but the time.”

And maybe that’s where you are—

not ready, still sitting 

in the echo of see ya later alligator,

still hoping the goodbye wasn’t the end.

But just know, moving forward isn’t forgetting.

And moving on doesn’t always mean healed.

They’re just different songs

in the same unfinished playlist

of letting go.