closure

is this really how we end?

Feb 13, 2025

I like closure.

I like the clarity that comes with understanding why things went wrong.

I like difficult, honest conversations that reveal that I wasn’t wrong and you weren’t wrong and that sometimes things just happen.

I like mutual “I should have done better, I’m sorry” moments.

Mostly because they reveal how so many issues in relationships can be fixed, and even avoided, when we communicate effectively and shelve our egos.

Unfortunately, more often than not, these realisations and admissions only happen when it’s already too late.

When the damage has been done, the hurt has been hurt, and there’s no point in going any further in the relationship.

Knowing that “we could’ve avoided all this” is painful, but still I’ll take that knowledge over the uncertainty and the confusion, and sometimes, the desperation that comes with not knowing why.

“Why did we stop being friends?”
“Why did your energy towards me suddenly change?”
“Why do you pretend like there was never anything between us?”

Because being in that space sucks, whether in a platonic or non-platonic context.

You’ll know if you’ve ever been there before.

That space of constantly wondering what went wrong and firmly believing in your heart that if you can only have one more open and honest conversation with them, then you can fix whatever the issue is.

I’ll admit it, that’s another reason I like closure.

Because in those moments of clearing the air and speaking what was previously left unspoken, there’s usually a chance.

A small chance.

That the relationship can survive.

That both parties, after realising what went wrong the first time, would mutually decide to make a conscious effort to do better this time around.

And for me, that alone makes seeking closure worth it.

The last “talking stage” I was in was with someone that didn’t believe in closure.

So, after things ended, for her, that was really the end.

Meanwhile, I kept wondering to myself, “Is that really it?”

All those months, all those conversations, everything just… ends?

The thought was difficult to come to terms with.

Before that happened, I used to pride myself on the fact that I was ready to let anybody go whenever they wanted to leave.

I already know that nobody stays forever, so if the time ever comes to let someone go, then so be it.

But this time was very different.

When the end came, it was sharp and decisive, and although we both knew it would probably have happened eventually, it still caught me off guard.

So, there I was that night, staring at the last text she sent, convinced in my heart that there was no reason for things to end that way, but not being able to do anything about it.

Honestly, I tried.

I sent multiple replies to her text, some overly logical, some overly emotional.

I even sent her a long email that’s still unreplied to this day.

Yet, nothing. Radio silence.

I can’t lie; I’m honestly impressed by how she didn’t waver on the decision.

We both knew it was the “smart” thing to do, but deep down, I just wouldn’t accept it.

So while battling with my raging emotions in the days that followed, I learnt two very interesting lessons.

I already detailed the first one here, and the second one was this:

The best form of “closure” you’ll ever get is the one that you give to yourself.

It’s the most trustworthy, the safest, and the one you should strive for first, before anything else.

The Other Side of Closure

Closure is generally regarded as a two-person thing.

The people involved must agree to have that final conversation with mutual honesty and understanding as they acknowledge the past, make peace with it, and start their individual journeys of healing and moving on.

Or coming back together to do better.

But what happens when the parties don’t agree?

When that conversation doesn’t happen?
When you don’t get the answers you need?
When the person that hurt you doesn’t apologise or feel remorseful?

What happens then?

Does your journey to healing and peace stop?
Do you postpone it till whenever they are ready?
Do you live in denial that things have really ended?
Or do you brood and wallow all day, crying and hurting and hoping that they come back and help you pick yourself up?

Neither of these options sounds healthy or reasonable, do they?

Yet, that’s what we often do.

We wait for closure from that friend or that ex, thinking that if they could only apologise for what they did or explain why they did it, then we would get better and feel better.

It’s putting too much power in the hands of someone else, and it’s very dangerous.

The hard truth is:

Some people will never explain.
Some people will never own up.
Some people will walk away, never look back, and leave you with hundreds of unanswered questions and unresolved emotions.

So, if you keep waiting for them to help you get the peace that you need, then you’ll probably be waiting forever.

That’s why I say that true “closure” is not something you take from someone; it’s something you give to yourself, with or without them.

Closure goes beyond just a conversation. It is acceptance.

Acceptance that some people are incapable of accountability.
Acceptance that sometimes, you won’t get the apology you deserve.
Acceptance that, whether or not you agree with the way things ended, you will still have to move on.

And I know that the pain of confusion, of not knowing, of feeling like you've been cheated and deserve more, is heavy.

But to burden yourself with carrying that weight?

That’s even heavier.

At some point, for your own sake, you will have to put it down.

Better sooner than later.

Closure Is a Choice

I know that it’s hard, but oftentimes, you must decide that even without answers, you will move forward.

In my case, I stopped waiting for her to “hear me out,” and I stopped trying to reach out.

I accepted the situation, made peace with it, and I moved on.

To an extent, at least.

In case you’re wondering: yes, we’re on good terms today.

We both found “closure”, just separately.

My point is this:

“Closure” does not have to be a conversation where two hearts are unburdened and apologies are made and tears are shed.
It can be a conversation with yourself, where you choose to let go of whatever anger or pain or confusion that you’re feeling.

Not because they don’t matter, but because they don’t serve you anymore.

When we seek closure, we should not be focused on making the past make sense but on ensuring that the past no longer controls us.

You don’t need a final conversation before you find peace.
You don’t need a definite end to the relationship.
You don’t need anybody’s permission to heal.

I know it’s tough to accept; I do.

But some endings will never be satisfying.

They will be boring, and underwhelming, and frustrating.

That’s just how it is.

It’s okay to reach out, to ask questions, and to want to understand.

But if these answers and explanations are not forthcoming, then it would be ill-advised of you to keep on waiting for them.

You can’t wait for answers forever.

Sometimes, things just end.

People just leave and that’s that.

The most ironic part of all this is that you can get closure with someone about a situation and still not have peace if you’ve not already gotten closure with yourself.

See, matters of the heart are messy, and there’s nothing that we can do about it.

So, if you’re still holding on to someone that left with no warning or explanation, then my heart goes out to you.

Eventually, you will be okay.

Easy for me to say? Yes.

Hard for you to believe? Yes.

But that’s just how it is.