You always convince yourself that you're alright, that you've moved on. And just because you're smiling, you're laughing, you throw jokes, people thought you're happy. Like, you've never been shattered, that you're okay all along.
But the truth is, we never really moved on from the ones we've genuinely loved. We just get used into not feeling their presence. We just stopped checking our phones in hope to see their names on our notifications. We refrained ourselves from missing them and ignored the simple things that remind us of them. And each day, what literally keeps us moving is how we deal with their absence.
Then, at some point, we realized that we're done hurting. It's not excruciating anymore yet, it's also not a phase where we're completely healed. And it's the sad thing about heartbreaks. We can fix it, but it won't be that same heart before it got broken. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. Just almost.