How does one keep the flame burning? Or worse, how does one move on? Can someone really completely move on from what used to be one searing passionate burning affair? Unless the human species figure out what makes recovery slow after a painful blow, moving on would always take a soul-mangling process. My guess? Time figures in this soiree of emotions. After being in a company for ten years for instance, leaving such a comfort zone would always leave a tiny stubborn open wound that would always get poked by bits and pieces of remembrance of the former abode. Imagine in the longest time, I have married my working neurons to every wall, nook and cranny of that edifice I used to call home. Currently, I'm embracing the whole new space where my feet are now securely planted, yet it feels like I am looking at the milky way at a painful distance. It might take some growing pains but the mist will do the works. In due time.
As to my moving on, Ecclesiastes has trumpeted my own mantra--for everything there is a season.
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