What does closure look like to you?
When I was around 21 years old, I met a boy who had almost identical humor to me. We would laugh so much when we were together. He also loved Harry Potter, was an enormous Lord Of The Rings fan, and electric guitar player. He was also extremely religious, jealous, and insecure.
The first few months of the relationship went fantastic. Then I spent the next two years of my life in an on and off disaster trying to free myself from the relationship. I had put myself in a place where I had surrendered my own power over my emotions. It became so bad, that the tension of physical abuse was right around the corner when I finally did free myself.
I believed he was a good man, however, so I kept trying to come back and leave the relationship on good terms with him. I was looking for closure, in a positive way where we could both leave on amicable terms. It never happened.
I spent years afraid I’d see him in the neighboring town where I had met him, despite knowing that he was no longer living there. Eventually, I got into other relationships, beautiful ones with people who respected me and stuck around under amicable terms when we broke up. “I never got closure” I thought to myself.
But when I meant was, I hadn’t gotten closure the way I wanted to. I wanted us to end things well, to say “ok and now this is done and we’re both ok with it” but honestly, it could not have been more over. Trying to get closure was simply re-opening new cycles. It was opening myself up again to the venom that was him and his family. It was never just him, that I opened myself up to, but all the negativity. People would ask why I kept doing it, and I I kept wondering. What was I hoping would happen this time? How else could we bring this to an end? It was honestly beating a dead horse.
So instead, I brought closure for myself.
You know what closure is? Acceptance.
Accepting that this part of you life is over, and that it will stay over. That isn’t easy to find, and it’s even more difficult to get when we keep stirring up and bringing the past.
Sometimes, listening to music is what you need to bring you closure. Other times, it’s just masturbating the pain. This song used to be one that I would dedicate to him when I was trying to get away from him, and it would tear at me.
Now, it’s a song that I listen to to remind me of why I left him, and yes, it brings me closure every time. I’ve been having it for years, but there’s a part of me that will probably still feel hurt for a long time, the way it does when you connect with someone on a deep level only to then feel the cold betrayal of incompatibility. But it feels good to listen to this song. It reminds me of the strength I displayed in getting out of every relationship that wasn’t serving me for my highest good, or for that person. It reminds me that I am stronger than I am constantly giving myself credit for, that the loss can many times feel like the death of a loved one, and that the world even then doesn’t stop spinning. You become stronger, better, and people therefore will love you stronger, and better.
That is what acceptance looks like, that’s what closure feels like.
You don’t need the other person. Just you, and some music.