Falling on the Sword

There is always a lexicon of psychobabble out there that people use to define where they are with their issues. A current, overused, misunderstood one is.........closure.

I hate that word.

I got closure. I need closure. You should seek closure.

Fuck that.

Fuck closure.

You can get closure when you sell your car or finish mowing your lawn or graduate from college or finish that project at work and you can close a door. That's closure.

We want to think we can get closure for affairs of the heart. Thank God I got some closure we say.

You can't get some closure. You either have it or you don't. And I say you don't. You might think you do and it might piss you off for me to tell you that you don't but I am boldly contending here that .......

you
do
not
have
it.

And why would you want it?

Sass quoted from The Invitation a couple of days ago but it was buried in the comment box and it merits repeating.

"If we are strong enough to be weak enough, we are given a wound that never heals. It is the gift that keeps the heart open."

And why not? Why would I want to close it? Ending and closing are two very different concepts.

This is the most difficult post I've ever written.

It's been apparent I'm sure that I've had a heavy heart of late. The tendency is to rush for closure, right? Move on? It's like someone going through a divorce who tells you, I'm OK, I'm really OK, I'm going to be fine now. Liar. You'll break again tomorrow and say you're OK again next week and you'll be deceiving yourself then too.

Pick someone, go read. See closure? Hardly. You see open wounds. You could drive a truck through mine. Fucking closure, kiss my ass.

Does the person I hurt, the person who loved me unconditionally, does she have closure? The one I cast aside to chase that bright burning star.

And, oh we burned bright didn't we baby? With a consuming flashing passion. I gave all of myself. I gave everything I have. It was overwhelmingly......full. I bursted with it. I imploded.

And when I saw the board flash..."arrived" my palms were sweaty and we were talking to each other as you came around the corner and still were when you came to me and I leaned you against the wall and kissed you. Phones still in our hands.

And all the worry, the nerves, were for naught because it was the same only more, more, goddamn more.

The words came easy face to face like they always had on the phone and everywhere else, it was all the same except for all that more, more.

And the touching and your clothes dropping to the deck and your feet on my lap and in my hands and the hour, or two, however the fuck long it was in the hot tub and then bed, god bed, everything, over and over, for hours and hours, all of it.

And when you walked away, looking back over your shoulder, I stood stunned.

And nothing was ever the same after that. It couldn't be.

We crashed and burned.

It never could be.

It never should have been.

And you can take your pain in doses, a little more each day.

For awhile.