Moving On

Emotional attachment is a dangerous thing. It is a narcotic. We yearn dearly for it; we immerse ourselves in the euphoria of the experience when we obtain it; we become utterly dependent on it, and the moment we are deprived of it, we spiral into a seemingly perpetual cycle of suffering and withdrawal – we surrender to the gravity of emptiness, and the darkness of emptiness is dense indeed.

It is an electrostatic bond. Once broken, the elements roam fervently to locate a substitute and reform the compound. Some of us are halogens; desperate to complete our outer shell, clinging onto the closest element in our vicinity, sometimes, the very same element that we were torn away from in the first place. Others are inert and are in no rush to form a compound again, if ever.

For most of us, moving on is akin to emerging from absolute darkness. We stand blind, precariously on the edge of a precipice. We shift tentatively, fearing the depthless abyss that awaits a misguided step. But as we venture away from the origin, with blind faith in the solidity of the earth beneath our feet, the sun begins to emerge from its slumber. With every step, it rises further still, until the world is lit in its glorious entirety. With our vision reborn, we look back to find a precipice of yielding foundation, destined to crumble. With our vision reborn, we look forward to find a new element – another element to yearn for, to immerse in euphoria with, to depend on, and with any luck, to not suffer over.

Emotional attachment is a dangerous thing, but it is the inability to move on that is the hand that thrusts the knife into one's heart. So move on.

Esjay