She want's to move on so badly. She wanted to look in the mirror and not burst into tears. She wanted to like herself. She wanted to start talking to guys again. She wanted to see a future for herself. But she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried, forget about the life she lived.

Because he could come back. And he has a hold on her. She knows she'll never move on. She'll always wonder if he'll return. She'll always look at the people in the white cars that pass. A knot will always form in her gentle stomach when she see's the back of a blonde haired boy. She'll dream about the gold in your eyes on the smell of you or the way you smile when you talk about the past. She'll make up synarios in her head. A part of her know's, he's gone. What's left of the person he used to be is controlled by the person he is now.

But she doesn't care.

People tell her to find hope.

She has, silly child.

Her hope is in him. And that's why there is no progress in her moving on.

Because, fearless leader, you didn't specify what she needed to find hope in in order to keep going.