“Love is energy : it can neither be created nor destroyed. It just is and always will be, giving meaning to life and direction to goodness.” -Bryce Courtney
Closure isn’t real,
Sometimes it’s necessary.
I’m breaking my strict sleep schedule to write this because I don’t want to forget.
I’ve been angry. My last relationship was the most intense connection that I’ve ever experienced in my life. This break up is much harder than separating from my wife. All I had was things with my wife, with this other woman I had memories. I have the reminder of our first date walking on train tracks and the beach. We ate good food and had great drinks. We saw a movie--Suicide Squad-- and shared skittles and our second kiss. My mind goes back there each time I get to the end, because the question is how did we get here, to silence?
It’s the details.
I can still feel her even though there are miles between us. If you have been keeping up then you read my previous blog where I expressed exactly how I felt about the entire situation and how it ended.
I retreated into myself and took time to reflect on the details because it seems that in the end there’s always more. I focused on the bad to keep myself angry because grief is more than I could stand to bear at that moment. I did cry here or there, but I needed to fight a total breakdown. I had to work and be present for myself. I’m also not afraid to cry no matter where I am, so I did just to deal. What better way to stop grief other than to just be mad? I understand fully what anger is (another blog), which is why I know how to use it to my advantage. It has been my blocker. In realizing this a few days ago--Tuesday night--I also realized that it was blocking a part of my healing. That would make me a hypocrite in fully wanting to get back to me. There are no “buts” on the path to your higher self.
Get it done. You have to feel every feeling all the way through to the other side.
I knew that I had more to say but I was okay with the silence between us. I was okay with the silence because I didn’t want to deal with another blow up. Cruelty is hard from the person you once loved more than anything. It’s even worse when you have to use the same tactic to defend yourself against the one you once viewed as your protector. My daddy issues are clearly shining through (another blog).
I’d found this peace within myself that satisfied me enough not to have to speak another word to her, because like I said, closure isn’t real. In my experience closure had been used as an excuse to keep in touch, to hold on. The moment I hear the word closer, I feel mocked. What is it that you need closed? To me, all they want to know is if you are suffering without them. Yes, the answer is always yes, unless you dealt with a sociopath. Why do you need confirmation that I miss the good things?
The universe always has a funny joke to tell. I was minding my business, singing loudly to Kelly Rowland’s #1 in the shower at my highest peak of happiness in awhile, when my Pandora was interrupted. At first, I thought it was Said Lover calling to check in because she had been dancing in the mountains so we hadn’t had time to talk. We literally sit on the phone all day, even when I’m at work. I will not talk about her in this blog. No, I won’t.
In the midst of steam and soap I didn’t get the chance to check the caller ID. I picked up and it was Said Ex-lover calling with her number blocked. In case you didn’t know, it’s the only way a blocked caller can get through. It seems even iPhone hasn’t found the technology to keep unknown numbers from being able to contact you. Still wondering why I left team Android. The only difference is a damn camera. Okay, maybe a few apps, too. Anyways, my guard was up for a split second and annoyance took over to ask, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”
She wanted to talk. She’s been wanting to talk.
I didn’t have much time to decide if I wanted to have a conversation so I told her I would call her back after my shower in about ten minutes. I honestly did not know what I felt in that moment. As I stood with one foot out of the shower and one foot in, I wondered if I should honor what I’d said about calling her back. I shook off whatever it was that I was feeling and continued to wash my body. I told myself not to call back because there was nothing else to be said. Then I asked myself if it was the stubborn part of me talking, the part of me that finds it hard to forgive and move forward. The part of me that I’m currently trying to heal because forgiveness is for yourself. As cliché as this sounds it’s true when you experience it for yourself. I have a lot of people that I need to forgive, starting with myself. So again, here I was going against the definition of insanity. In this season of transformation, I HAVE to be different.
I did as I said that I would and I called Said Ex-lover back. I’m glad that I did. Not only were there things that needed to be said but things that needed to be unsaid. The words ‘I’m sorry’ don’t carry much weight in my life but you don’t realize how important they are until you don’t hear them. We both had things that we needed to apologize for: the details that led to the disaster… actually I won’t use the word disaster because I’ve dealt with worse. She had flaws, as did I, but she was not the worst even with her temper. She only threw my clothes outside and choked me. My ex before that dislocated my shoulder, so yeah, not the worst.
Before this conversation, the air around me felt stiff. I was still moving forward. I could feel my process, my changes, my endings, and beginnings. The breaking of my bones to become a werewolf (team Jacob). But still, I could feel the lingering of the silence filled with pink elephants between us. We are so in sync that it’s annoying. I can tell you every day that she was fine and every night that she was suffering. This week was a rough one. From Tuesday to Sunday morning. I swear to you on Thursday night I woke up from my not-so-good sleep and yelled for her to just rest. Find a way. PLEASE.
Prior to that, on Tuesday night, I’d played, the voicemail that she’d left on repeat. I felt I needed to listen to it with my walls down. It was a stupid voicemail to me, but she posed an important question.
“Was this real?”
With three years of history, romantic and not, I’ve been convincing myself that it couldn’t have been. Even with the proof of pictures and so many other things haunting me, it just wasn’t. I’ve been trying to erase her, but I have not been successful. Here is what I know. I’m not sad or angry. I’m okay sleeping without her, nor do I need to hear her voice anymore. It’s nice, but not necessary. I also don't need to try so hard to erase her. It’s okay to honor what we had and keep the parts of it that worked. The lesson is in the parts that failed and we are both learning them twice over. The communication and the expectation-that I just learned she felt she needed to live up to-are what destroyed our shaky union.
Yes, all of the things that I mentioned in my Divorce and a Breakup blog are true, but at the same time there was so much good and so much progress. The love story is in the times that she reached for my hand while driving or giving me the aux cord to play whatever my heart and ears desired. It’s in her hugs and forehead kisses. It’s in her cuddles, in the fact that I was the smaller one, but I was allowed to be the big spoon when she needed me to and she fit. It’s in the fact that she didn’t mind sleeping naked with me. It’s in the fact that I never had to take out the trash or wash a dish because she saw me as her equal and not her maid. If I cooked, she cleaned.
I think we both tried too hard to find balance in love, work, friends, family, and social media, instead of just being happy in our little corner of the world. I wanted her to care about details. She wanted me to focus on the bigger picture. Our wants didn’t come with the patience, communication, or action needed to show one another what we meant. We had different lives and came from different places and experiences. Whether we wanted to or not, we both needed to be open to teach and learn. I think we were to an extent. It was like paying attention in class, but not doing the homework. Everybody hates homework, but it’s a necessary evil. It’s practice. And practice makes perfect.
So... closure. Still, not a real thing, but a “final” conversation to clear the air and simply say this is where I fucked up, but I have no regrets is okay. It’s okay to hear and understand that some things may not be meant to be. It’s nice to hear that even though it didn’t seem like it, the other person cared more than you could ever know. I will take the title narcissist away from her. I do still believe she is a bit full of herself, but who isn’t.
What we had needed to die in order to be reborn into something new. The people that we were needed to die. Closure is death.
It was real. All of it.