It’s hard to learn you’ve moved past a place or person and they’re no longer needed. Not because you’re vicious toward them or the place, but because they’re just not furthering you being you.
I used to love doing a lot of things, but I realize now that they are more trouble than their worth. I find going on most forums tedious, I don’t like to take long drives without destinations firmly plotted out and I just don’t like a lot o the things I used to.
Then I miss something I don’t think will ever come back. That might be the hardest part of all is that knowing something you love will never be the same or even happen again. I’m glad that the one constant in my life has been writing, that is always enjoyable.
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