Maybe Closure Isn’t Something He Gives You

We tell ourselves we are waiting for closure. Sometimes we are really waiting for one more conversation with the person we are supposed to be learning how to live without.

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Maybe Closure Isn’t Something He Gives You

Someone asked me this week how you stop wanting answers from the person who hurt you.

I wish I knew.

Because there is something uniquely cruel about a relationship ending with questions still alive inside it.

Why wasn’t I enough?

When did you know?

Did you miss me after?

Did you almost call?

Was leaving as hard for you as it was for me?

And the most dangerous one:

If I finally understood why you did it, would it hurt less?

I used to think the answer was yes.

I thought there had to be some perfect conversation waiting somewhere in the future. One where every confusing choice was explained, every missing piece finally clicked into place, and I walked away from it feeling lighter.

Like understanding could somehow undo what happened.

But I’m starting to think that might be another way we keep ourselves tied to people who are no longer here.

We tell ourselves we’re waiting for closure.

Sometimes we’re really waiting for one more conversation.

One more reason to hear their voice.

One more chance for them to say something that makes the ending feel less final.

And maybe they do owe you answers.

Maybe they owe you ten of them.

That doesn’t mean you have to keep your life on hold until they decide to give them.

There are questions I still have.

Questions I could probably ask.

Questions I know exactly who could answer.

But I also know myself well enough to admit that hearing those answers might only create new questions.

Because when you loved someone deeply, there is rarely one sentence that makes the loss make sense.

There is just what happened.

What it cost.

And what you decide to do with your life afterward.

Maybe closure is not finally understanding why somebody hurt you.

Maybe it is realizing you can survive without understanding.

Maybe it is deciding that the unanswered question does not get to become the rest of your story.

I’m still learning this one.

Some days I’m better at it than others.

But I’m beginning to understand something important.

You do not need every answer to close a door. Sometimes closure is simply deciding you are done standing in the doorway waiting for someone else to explain why they left.

Until next Tuesday.

— S.