Closure? No Thanks!


By Posie Pockets

How important is closure in relationships?
One of the most infamous words that accompanies a break-up is closure. But is it really what it’s cracked up to be? In the past I’ve convinced myself I need one more kiss, one more touch, one more smile, one more dinner, one more bullshit ridden experience to get the closure I feel I’m deserved. Really all I wanted was “one more time” without feeling guilty. From a high school beau to a glorified live-in boyfriend, I’ve yearned for the closure time and again. Yearned to understand what piece of the relationship puzzle just didn’t fit. And that’s completely expected as it’s human nature. But when it comes down to it, a break-up means case closed and there’s no reason to roll around in the filth and disappointment of why it just didn’t work. Bust out that dancing dress, kick up your heels and keep it moving. As the great saying goes, no use crying over spilled milk. In this case, no use in crying over someone who’s as good as gone.

One peen I’ve never written about, partially because it seems like light-years ago and his face never crosses my mind, is my ex-flame from high school. He was the first boy who actually thought I was pretty. He actually “liked” me for me. I wasn’t just the funny, chub-chub girl to him. I was the newly slender, high school freshman and he was the upperclassman jock. He courted me for a few weeks and underneath the Midway lights of our tiny-town carnival, a first-time love was struck.

This was back in my “True Love Waits” ring-wearing days; so don’t be thinking any funny business was going down. Well, any naked funny business anyway. I was a semi-virtuous biddy who dawned a chastity belt and braces. Too much metal to enjoy a sex, oral or otherwise. So, we wrapped ourselves up in our puppy love for the first year. Then, it all went to hell in a hand basket when the little slime “cheated” on me during New Year’s Eve. I specifically remember we dry-humped a little that night. In fact, he had enjoyed it too much and there was evidence in his drawers. So forgive me for being pissed when he cheated on me with jizz in his jeans induced by his beloved teen girlfriend.

I still remember the rumors bouncing off the halls in our high school about the teen heartthrob cheating on me with my loose, slightly frumpy friend. The premise of the cheat was he tickled her knockers and locked his lips on hers. I felt like a royal piece of shit and was mortified. I instantly broke it off. And of course, we got back together because I didn’t have the closure I needed. The following year of closure resulted in screaming matches, insecurities maximized, self-esteem whittled down to crumbs and alienation from a lot of people I loved. I am talking bat shit crazy stuff. I wanted to bust out a lie detector test to prove my boyfriend’s innocence. If I learned anything from Jerry Springer, if your relationship comes to the point where a polygraph test must be employed, you’ve got bigger issues. But I was a frail, ponytailed teen that was so deep in I couldn’t find my way out.

Now, ten years later, I realize I wasn’t thirsting for true closure. I was simply yearning for the relationship to stay wide open. And you know what the funny thing is? He denied that he cheated on me until he was blue in the face. Even though I had phone bills, witnesses and all the other dramatic evidence stacked against him. Bottom line is he cheated on me and that was rude and shitty. Relationship should have been over. Case should have been closed. I can only hope moving forward I don’t bust my back trying to get the closure I think I need. No more shoulda, woulda, coulda’s. Best thing I learned is to get out as unscathed as possible and be the one who got away. Closure and clarity will come as he/she disappears from your daily thoughts.