A situation or occurrence in which something closes forever.
Lately, I have had to have some real honest conversations with myself about this. A relationship ends, be it amicably or not. You may spend any period of time adjusting and then you move on, right? Nah bruh.
But what about that time you looked on their social media page?
Or what about keeping those emails/letters/texts?
Or making a folder in your phone of old pictures?
Closure is not as neat (or as easy) as we like to think it is. For some, you are forced to close on your own and heal in the best way you know how, even if that means reopening and closing.
Closure has levels.
I have had two exes to come back and apologize for hurting me, years after our relationship ended. So, while I closed the chapter myself, those added conversations definitely helped with my healing.
When one of those exes got married over the summer, I still had to come to grips that my high school/college self held on to dreams in that chapter. I had to tell her, “chill out, girl”.
And bell hooks said it best:
“I was still mourning- clinging to the broken heart of girlhood, to broken connections. When that mourning ceased I was able to love again.”
Well, I am not loving again, but I am being more intentional about the love I want and need. I am hoping to fall in love again.
Closure involves others. Shoutout to my best friend and prophyte who came through and helped me with talking through those moments, figuring out my exact feelings about the moment. And not offering the sentiments, “Girl you still ain’t over it. Move on”. When in reality, 5 (7 on and off) years ain’t easy to get over and even in my best days, I recognize that a part of me will always have some type of connection. But in those conversations, I did come to realize that nostalgia is a bitch, but all will be fine. Shoutout to my therapist for asking those hard questions of me and challenging me.
Another ex was on an apology tour with me and even though there are times I miss him and I am transparent about that, I straight up told him,” Sometimes you have to take an L, bruh.” The door closed again and I locked it and got rid of the key for good measure.
I was texting a friend of mine and he said, “Closure is like licking an envelope. In order for it to close, you have to go through the bitter and nasty taste just to make sure it’s closed.” (Preciate this DG)
I wrote a little piece about thinking through these things and my conclusions. Hope you enjoy.
I took all your shit
Packed it into a box
Mailed it first class to your mom
I deep cleaned my car
Deep cleaned my apartment
I wanted no lingering of your presence anywhere near me.
I was safe. Door closed. Book closed.
But my TL wanted otherwise
That song we danced to in the living room, officially making it our wedding song
My timehop reminding me of the statuses I wrote about us
My homegirl said your name
A colleague asked about you
I deleted your number
It took me a year to not spit it freely as if it was my own
I changed my Instagram name
I stopped following yours
Out of sight, out of mind
I am safe. Door closed. Chapter closed.
But tagged pictures are a bitch
And for some reason, you have made new friends that were my friends
And they posted pics of you
So I have accepted that there will always be lingering pieces that I will have to deal with
Turn away from
A process. Of undoing and healing. Of reclaiming lost time where I thought I couldn’t close you. Of reminding myself that there will be better. Of remembering and honoring the love and memories, but knowing they have a place, in the past.
I packed up my feelings
That bookmark I left in our book.
Taped the box shut and walked away.