Moving On

I feel odd writing this.  I know what I want to say.  But I'm not really sure how I want to say it.  And I'm afraid that I'm mistaken.  That I don't know what I'm talking about here.  I'm afraid of saying something that's not true, or maybe never was.  And maybe part of it is that I don't want to admit some things, I don't want some people to see this.  I hope that's been enough of an introduction and apology for me to actually start writing something worthwhile.

We've both had bad relationships.  Right?  Maybe not?  See, now I'm doubting everything I'm writing.  Whatever.  We're both fucked up.  Or were.  Probably still are, at least a little bit.  Maybe not as much anymore.  Hopefully.  That'd be good.  But the odd thing is, you said you were broken there.  And I just walked away from my own parallel situation.  I wasn't doing great, but I wasn't terrible, either.  I got over it.  Quickly.  Easily.  Which is the opposite of what happened to you.

So why am I the one who can't move on?  I know there are other events at play, that the two situations can't simply be compared like that, but...why?  Why can I not move on?  I'm over it, I've been over it for years, so why does it bother me?  Why am I afraid of that name?  The person behind it?  Any associations with the whole thing.  I want to run away from it and pretend it doesn't exist, never happened.  That's what everyone around me seems to be doing and somehow even you're okay with what happened to you.

Why am I not?  That's what I really don't understand.  Or maybe I did move on.  It doesn't feel like it bothers me.  It just seems to sometimes come up and bite me in the ass.  I don't know.  I can't write about this.  I don't know what to say.  I'm done right now.  I know it doesn't make any sense.  I'm sorry.  I just don't know.  I hope I can figure things out later.