It’s Not Easy to Move On
People often say that time heals everything, that eventually we learn to let go of the people we love but cannot have. But I wonder if moving on is really that simple. Sometimes, it's not just a person we're struggling to forget, but the memories, the hopes, and the future we once imagined with them. Even when we know our feelings will never be returned, a small part of us may continue to hold on.
For me, that journey began in ninth grade. I confessed my feelings to a girl I liked, but I didn't get the response I had hoped for. Rejection is tough to swallow, and since it was my first time opening up to someone like that, her response hit me especially hard. Looking back, we were both young, naive, and completely unprepared to handle rejection in love. Perhaps what hurt most wasn't just that she didn't feel the same way, but that I had already begun imagining a future that would never happen.
Still, I tried everything to get her to feel the same way. I started messaging her on Instagram, though looking back, it was completely one-sided. I initiated every conversation, while she merely replied with brief answers. It was clear she wasn't interested and was probably just replying out of courtesy. Nevertheless, I kept trying. After school, I would walk with her to her bus stop, doing my best to keep a conversation going. She had a captivating presence, soft-spoken and gentle, with a smile that mesmerized me in a way I still can't quite forget.
Eventually, I managed to get her WhatsApp number. Whenever she posted a photo on her status, I saved it to my phone. On quiet or lonely days, I'd look at those pictures. Time flew by, and soon ninth and tenth grade were over. Funnily enough, she was the main reason I looked forward to going to school every single day.
Later, I learned that she had been in a relationship for a long time. Yet, my heart kept overruling my mind, telling me to keep trying anyway. My best friend constantly advised me to move on. "Isn't it hard?" he asked me once. "To love someone who doesn't love you back?"
I told him that, in a way, unrequited love felt pure. Unlike a shared relationship, it belonged entirely to me. I didn't need her reciprocation to feel it. There was a certain beauty in loving someone without expecting anything in return— In love, if you win, it's wonderful, but even if you lose, not all is lost.
At least, that's what I told myself. Deep down, perhaps I was still hoping that if I stayed by her side, helped her when she needed it, or somehow became the person she wanted, she might eventually see me differently. I thought that if I loved her enough, my feelings might one day be enough for both of us. I didn't realise then that love isn't something you can earn through patience or effort. No matter how sincere your feelings are, you cannot make someone feel the same way.
Still, moving on in practice was far harder than in theory. I tried to develop feelings for other girls, but nothing seemed to click. Eventually, I deleted her photos, unfollowed her on social media, and removed her number. When college started, I moved to a new city for a fresh start. I kept my distance not only from romantic relationships but also from getting too close to girls. I was afraid that a simple friendship might turn into something more in my mind, pulling me back into the same painful cycle. So I built a wall around myself. It felt safer to avoid the possibility of getting hurt than to risk going through it all again.
After graduating, I moved back home to prepare for competitive exams. One afternoon, while walking down the street, I passed right by her. She looked up and smiled. In an instant, that simple smile brought back a flood of memories I thought I had left behind. For a moment, it felt as though I were that ninth-grade boy again, carrying the same old hopes and wondering what might have happened if things had turned out differently.
Shortly after, her account popped up in my Instagram suggestions. I sent a follow request, and this time, she followed me back. But things are different now—we don't talk. Sometimes, I still find myself looking at her Instagram stories, pausing for a moment before moving on with my day.
Sometimes, I wonder whether those feelings ever truly disappeared or whether I simply learned to live without acting on them. Perhaps seeing her again brought back not only memories of her, but also the person I used to be and the future I once imagined. I may never know for certain.
What I do know is that loving someone doesn't mean they owe you the same love in return. You can care deeply, give your best, and still not be the person they choose. Accepting that doesn't make your feelings any less real; it simply means learning to let go of what was never yours to hold.
Even today, I'm not entirely sure whether I've moved on completely. Maybe moving on doesn't mean forgetting someone or feeling absolutely nothing when their memory returns. Maybe it means accepting that some stories won't end the way we hoped, and learning to make peace with them anyway.
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