Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Closure

Closure is a funny thing. 

At first glance, it seems like something we can achieve *only if* the other person is present; if they are there, at the table, telling us to our face why they did what they did, explaining how they feel. So if I can't talk with them in person, there is no closure. Right?

...That Person who wronged us, or blamed us, or left us.

Yet if we take a second look, we find that perhaps we can execute this 'closure' thing totally on our own. Because surely they can't or won't always be able to be present. What if they passed away? Or what if they are now living so far away that we are guaranteed to never see them again? Or we just know that they won't respond and say yes to a final, affirming (and thereby healing) conversation? That they simply don't have the capacity to show up?

Thankfully, there are practices - methods - for achieving closure all unto one's self. Without requiring the physical presence of The Other Person.

Ways through which we can achieve resolution, regardless of the other person's absence.

We can take several tacks to approach and attain full closure on our own. For example:

**we can write a letter to That Person expressing how we feel and stating what we would have said, if given just one more chance to say it. At least this way, we have expressed it- we have moved it *out* of our physical body and on to the paper, to be released;

**we can dance around the living room to all those songs that remind us of 'them', dancing freely and openly, with all our anger and all our love- and stomp out our final messages to the driving rhythms of the music;

**we can sing a prayer up to the heavens, asking for grace to enter us and help us understand why they did it, and to help us eventually forgive them; using our voice to ask our own sweet higher soul to ease our path so that we can get-used-to-being-without-them; perhaps even until we are moved to the point of tears. And can begin to hold a softer, more compassionate stance towards them, thereby alleviating some of our pain;

**we can journal, we can scream, we can paint or otherwise find ways to articulate the precise message that would nourish us, had it been spoken by That Other Person. Those magic words we so long to hear.

What would we say? What would we scream at them, if given the chance? What would we ask for, or declare, in our unrestricted honesty?

So that we can finally move forward from that last heart-felt (and possibly painful) chapter of our life and into the next chapter, without them in the picture.


Funny thing is, {clearing my throat}, I know all of this schtuff. I am aware of these alternative methods of gaining that oh-so-precious feeling of completion - even when the other person won't or can't show up. I have taken WHOLE WORKSHOPS in this! Ha.

Joke's on me.

'Cuz here I am, late-night, finding myself giving in to sending 'him' a text, asking to get together "for the sake of CLOSURE."

{insert dramatic drum beat}. 

Why would I DO that? Why on EARTH would I text him and request to see him? When the way he ended our relationship was soooo completely below-the-belt, his words rife with judgment and criticism of me? Blame, shame and every other type of projection showed up. Why the H*LL would I even want to contact him again?

Because. 

{sigh}.

Here are the reasons I've come up with, in these last few minutes since sending him that oh-so-vulnerable text message, as to the possible motivations for why I sent that text. When I knew, as I hit the Send button, that it would be an epic fail on my part. That he would *not* respond.

(1) because I don't want it to be over. 

[Seriously, I KNOW that it is over, and that it needs to be over - that we are no longer a match and that I should just move on. But I'm being really honest here, so I gotta ask myself: what if I DO have some 
deeply-buried subconscious voice that still wants to cling to the past, that doesn't want to let him/Us go?, despite the obvious misalignment of our priorities and values?];

(2) because I'm friggin' stubborn as all get-out, and that rather intense part of me is stomping my feet and declaring that I will GET MY CLOSURE with you, damnit!;

(3) because in my heart of hearts I knew before I hit the Send button that he will *not* reply, that I'm barking up the wrong tree. A Challenge: will you dare to show up for a final conversation with me? Me, the person to whom you used to say "I love you"? The one to whom you made many sweet promises? 

Or are you chicken shit. 

{throwing down the glove}. What say you now, Oh Silent One? 


Because the person who *would* be willing to show up and have an honest conversation to 'close' things, is the same person who would have chosen to stay with the relationship in the first place.

To face their fears (and mine), together. To meet me and meet himself and be part of that 'Us' thing together, with a lot of willingness and a little courage. THAT person would be willing to have regular talks about what's going on between us just like they would be willing to have an uber-transparent talk now, about our ending.

So I'm beating a dead horse. (Obviously). 'Cuz if he couldn't show up before, while we were together, he certainly can't show up now. 

{sigh}. 

I guess I need to go "do" my own closure, now. À la previously-mentioned methods. Because he's not gonna reply to my message.

Good thing I know how!

***

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