Typically speaking, every movie has its third act, every show leads up to a series finale, and every play ends with a final bow from its actors. All three describe the sense of finality that we have grown accustomed to and often find comfort in on an almost daily basis. We may not be 100% satisfied with certain outcomes, but we are able to appreciate the full picture surrounding specific events and experiences. If only the plot of our lives was as committed to this conclusive structure; where beginnings always have clear endings, no matter how disastrous the middle portion can get. But, alas, it seems that the writing staff of our lives went on an indefinite strike. We’re left to experience a spontaneous life that does not always allow for everything to go according to plan. Amidst so much uncertainty, our vulnerable selves inevitably hope against hope that no one hurts us in the process and sabotages our peace. Realistically speaking, this is not the case. A significant other can break your heart in five minutes, your lifelong friend can betray your trust in seconds, and a family member can ruin your confidence for years with just a single comment. While these situations may have the potential to shatter us emotionally, it’s normal to focus on the pain for some time, replay the interaction in your head, and try to make sense of it all. Why did they hurt me? Why do I have to carry this emotional burden with me? Along the way, we can also grow obsessed with the idea of closure. Perhaps an apology or an acknowledgment from this person in which they hold themselves accountable for how they hurt you can help set us free from the weight of their actions. But closure is never guaranteed, and we need to learn how to deal with that.
We have no control over getting hurtー this outcome will forever be a possibility whenever we open up to others. Loving someone and being loved can be as easy as breathing, essential to our survival. There is greatness in our vulnerability, just as there’s a strength to be found in the most fragile areas of our souls. With that being said, when the individuals who have somehow earned a VIP access to our hearts do us any type of wrong, the world seems to collapse around us. Any sturdy foundations created by your relationship crumble, and you are left alone to find your footing amidst a disaster. The safe space they created for you closes its doors. In real time, your stomach drops as you register the implications of what they just did or said, and your hands get clammy as this interaction makes you question every moment you’ve lived together. Where did this come from? Why would they do this? Your response, if it ever comes up, gets caught in the lump in your throat as their words seep into your skin, causing your cheeks to flush and your mind to race. You struggle to assess the damages, try to estimate the time that it will take you to feel whole again. Sometimes, the offense is minimal, and it might not be as tedious to heal from. On the other hand, some feelings refuse to be swept under the rug, no matter how much we try to do so. In the long run, emotions that are not properly felt or processed will inevitably fester in our hearts ー causing even bigger problems.
The obsession with closure begins when we replay the specific moment in which our feelings were hurt over and over again. Shock and sadness can give way to anger and a thirst for justice. At this point, it’s no longer about begging the universe to explain why they did this. Now, you’re demanding to know where they gathered the audacity to shatter your emotional state, to force you into character development you clearly didn’t ask for, throwing in some angst to increase viewership. You want them to feel remorse over what they did; to figure out how to make it up to you. Although I’ve found this outcome to be extremely rare, they might hold themselves accountable and make an honest attempt to patch things up. In an ideal world, this would be the norm, but neatly wrapping things up in a bow only seems to happen on two distinct occasions: either it’s Christmas or your birthday. Nothing prepares you for the anticlimactic turn of watching them happily move on with their lives after rendering you speechless and leaving you stuck at that moment. You then observe how they make an effort to improve themselves for others, having learned from the mistakes they made with or to you, even if they possibly never address you ever again. It was just a bump in the road for them, a regular Tuesday afternoon. You have no choice but to set up their redemption arc at your own expense.
Everyone gets to enjoy them afterward, now mature and considerateーwhile you are fighting with, what appears to be, a ghost. The memory of their treatment has a lasting effect that sours your mood. Those around you may call you bitter, or scold you for holding on to the past. At first, when the wound is still fresh and up for display, empathy will surround you in abundance. Your process will be validated and your resentment justified. However, slowly but surely, patience will run its course and those around you will nod in silent agreement that you should just move on. That stings, too. Everything has an expiration date, even emotions. Sure, these comments may come from a place of love, but they can also come off as “we know. Can you please just shut up about it?.” You’re expected to dust yourself off, after a certain amount of time, and revisit this broken version of yourself when you get hurt again.
Developing a fixation on getting closure is complicated. We assume that this person knew us well enough to understand the severity of the situation, that they were aware of the line being crossed and raced through it anyway. Someone who loves you wouldn’t do such a thing, right? I wish I could answer with a firm “yes,” but I’ve witnessed firsthand how love doesn’t always guarantee being understood. You could love without knowing much about a person. Yeah, they loved you, but they never had the patience to explore your complexities. When we long for closure, it can be a way to keep certain relationships close to us. If they never reach out, do you really think that talking it out is necessary? Nothing ensures that they will be honest, or that their reasoning will bring you peace. Could a conversation truly mend bridges that were simply meant to burn? Or is it just a way to put off the personal growth that is essential for us to properly move forward once and for all? This overpowering urge for closure can very well be the thing holding you back in the first place.
The bitter pill to swallow is that, whenever damage is inflicted on us, we have the responsibility to fix what another person broke. Believe me, I’m well aware that cleaning up after someone else’s mess doesn’t seem fair in the slightest. Resenting them can be so much easier than being proactive and working towards restoring our peace. We want to blame them forever; yet, from the bottom of our hearts, we know that the perpetual pointing of fingers will get us nowhere. If anything, you’re reinforcing the idea that they continue to have power over you and you’re helping them stay relevant in your life while you wait around for a few words from the person that hurt you. Distance will allow you to gain a deeper understanding of your emotions. Soon enough, you will hopefully find yourself closing this chapter of your life on your own terms, not theirs. What matters most is taking care of yourself and accepting the past. Slowly but surely, you’ll find that letting go of the situation will no longer feel like you’re letting yourself down.