so used to this.

{this is some random sheet. sheet. ok?}

And, maybe we all go through this process. We all get used to things, sometimes even with things we didn't think we would get used to, like those that give us that constricting feeling in our chests. Many times, we tell ourselves we're okay, that it's no big deal, we'll be fine. We give ourselves time to wallow and then, we move on. We. move. on.

We move on, in spite of us not being ready. We move on, even if we don't know where to go. We move on, even if we don't know what just happened yet. We force ourselves to minimize the time we have to use for wallowing, we always say it's enough. Perhaps, it is... or does it matter? Whether we cry or wallow enough, we still have to do the same thing: move on. Because we all know the truth - we just don't have a choice. We have to do it or else we will be losers, stuck somewhere non-existing, a place we could only fantasize about. Funny, I know too well from my more than two decades of existence that I have done countless moving from one point to another but it was only recently that I have realized how moving on is different from getting over. I used to think they mean the same. They don't. I guess they're separated by a distance the same as an average diameter of our hair, but still, they don't mean the same.

It was also through these random realization (random, so random I realized this while I was eating some reheated corned beef from two days ago) that I discovered how getting used to could be parallel to forgetting or getting over.

Many people mistook getting used to something to getting over it. This is one big mistake we will find hard to admit once we realize we are committing it.

{So, why on Christmas?}