Conclusions and Closure

Someone recently told me that I’m good at conclusions, or something like that. I’m good at concluding things. I wouldn’t disagree, but I think sometimes I go too far in cutting things off before their time, for the sake of moving on.

Whenever I go away on holidays, the last morning is always wobbly. Knowing that I have a drive ahead of me, knowing that I have my life to get back to, I can’t fully relax until I’m on the road. My suitcase packed up, I’m ready to go earlier than most because I’m no longer in holiday mode. My mind is thinking ahead to everything I have to do when I get home that night, the day after, the week after. I no longer like the feeling of being in two places at once; I’d rather have all my stuff – and me! – back in normal routine.

It’s a stark contrast to the feeling of driving towards your holiday. That I love. I love only having one suitcase and leaving most of my items behind. I love the drive because you’re in between lives and there’s a feeling of no responsibility. On the drive I have no one to answer to other than myself, no demands. It’s driving away from the ordinary as though normal life doesn’t exist.

But that last morning? The drive is too slow, I’m too antsy. I’d rather it was done so I could move on to the next thing. After the holidays I only feel ‘normal’ again once my laundry is done and my suitcase is completely unpacked.

For most of year 12 I was discontent because I just wanted school to be over. I couldn’t settle down and found my emotions all over the place. I wanted to be finished and going onto the next thing.

I don’t like leaving projects half done. If I’m decluttering something, we’re doing the whole lot. I hate having items on the floor that don’t belong there; rubbish bags, donation piles. I want it all out, and I want it all out now. The things to donate I’ll store in the car ready to go so I don’t have to look at them anymore, and I empty the bins as soon as I can.

I want to be done. If something doesn’t fit into my life anymore, I want it gone. What’s the point of lingering?

As I said, I think I go too far in this way. Cutting things off and not always letting myself feel all the emotions properly for the sake of moving forward and going onto the next thing.

Each time I’ve had the inkling that I’ll leave a job, I struggle to finish well because in my mind I’m already gone. If a friend distances themselves, I don’t always have the patience to reel them back in.

Thinking to my breakup last year, the relationship constantly felt incomplete. Even when I cut things off best I could (delete their number, unfriend them on Facebook) and tried to move forward, it didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like an open wound.

I tried to create closure for myself even though I’m not so sure closure in that sense even exists. Because closure is final, but feelings don’t work that way. You can’t rip out the love you have for someone else just because they’re gone, or just because you’re no longer allowed to express it.

The breakup felt like an incomplete ending because the only way to not feel incomplete would be to stay together. Of course the breakdown of a relationship won’t feel finished, you’re suddenly unable to connect with someone who you spent so much time with and invested in.

Closure means you’ve said all you need to, means you’ve smoothed over the wrinkles, means you’re not angry or upset anymore, right? Closure is finishing the book and feeling satisfied by the last page.

Only, in the aftermath of a breakup there’s always more to say but not the right person to say it to. In the aftermath of a breakup the book prematurely ends because you expected it to finish with happy ever after. But it doesn’t.

I’m still learning how to reconcile the part of me that wants to move forward and cut things off with the part of me that needs to process, feel, and accept. I’m still learning that I don’t have to date someone else right away for the sake of everyone else’s opinions about me, and it’s okay that I don’t want to date anyone else right now. Because it won’t always be this way. (Right?) (Right??)

Maybe closure isn’t about seeing the other person on the street and feeling nothing for them, but in trusting God with your life and the path He’s taken you on.

If that’s the case, I do not have closure. But I’m trying to.

Sarah xx

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s