On Closure and Open Endings
I was in a relationship with a really awesome guy when I was 16. Somehow, I managed to blow it and called it off. It was a bad breakup, and the fact that I did it over the phone was just the beginning. He had a really difficult time accepting my lame excuse for leaving him, which I honestly can't remember anymore. All I know is that it's something nobody in this world deserves. The relationship ended for me after I hung up the phone but for him, it took more time to move on. He wanted closure, which he had a point telling me he at least deserves. So we planned countless times on meeting personally and ending it the way mature people end relationships, but every time the day comes, I chicken out and reschedule. One day, he just gave up, never called again, and moved on. I guess I deserve all the happy photos of him, his beautiful wife, and his beautiful kid plastered all over my Facebook news feed like a big, you-don't-fucking-deserve-me banner.
I've never been good with closures. I've always preferred open endings. And yeah, it's downright stupid.
When I come to think of it, closures are a better idea than open endings. Closure gives one an avenue to move on while an open ending just allows the existence of a bridge that's better off burned. I guess it's just what selfish people do who want to move on but want to have something to return to at the same time. I should be in death row.
I mustered enough guts yesterday to visit my cousins in Taguig where we used to live. On my way there, it felt just like meeting with my ex to end things right. I never said goodbye to my dad's mansion and all the happy memories in it when we moved out. Like I said, I'm no good with closures, but I never considered our house in Taguig an open ending. When I packed my bags and left without looking back a few months ago, I knew I'd never come back and even if I do, it'll never be the same. It was the end, all right, but going back there and seeing how things turned out makes me think about all the awesome stuff that could've happened there if only things that happened over the last few years never happened.
I stood in front of my dad's dream house yesterday and felt my backpack turn 10 times heavier and a bitter lump build up in my throat. Most of the facade was still there with the girly pink paint, but out of what used to be the attic roof were metal skeletons to support another floor. It's being turned into a commercial building by the guy who bought it. I fought back the tears as I watched sweaty men work through our old home like it wasn't once a place with a happy, thriving family. In my head, I called my dad's name in a desperate scream and begged him to come back home. I was sober enough to know that's never gonna happen.
So I came to see all the people I used to live with in my dad's family complex. I'm glad to know they're doing fine for themselves and that they're all moving on. I guess some good things just don't work out and need to be closed, but family is forever.
I've never been good with closures but when I passed by our old house earlier today on my way home, I didn't feel anything. This morning, what used to be our mansion just appeared like another pink building on a cold, deserted street. And now, sitting here in a plastic chair, facing my laptop, writing a blog entry about closure, and enjoying the beautiful view of morning sunshine make the metal garden roof of our across-the-street neighbor shine like a hundred diamonds, I knew I was home. This is home.
Last week, a Facebook post of a friend told me to do something my future self will thank me for.
Today, that's gonna be letting go.
Case closed.
I've never been good with closures. I've always preferred open endings. And yeah, it's downright stupid.
When I come to think of it, closures are a better idea than open endings. Closure gives one an avenue to move on while an open ending just allows the existence of a bridge that's better off burned. I guess it's just what selfish people do who want to move on but want to have something to return to at the same time. I should be in death row.
I mustered enough guts yesterday to visit my cousins in Taguig where we used to live. On my way there, it felt just like meeting with my ex to end things right. I never said goodbye to my dad's mansion and all the happy memories in it when we moved out. Like I said, I'm no good with closures, but I never considered our house in Taguig an open ending. When I packed my bags and left without looking back a few months ago, I knew I'd never come back and even if I do, it'll never be the same. It was the end, all right, but going back there and seeing how things turned out makes me think about all the awesome stuff that could've happened there if only things that happened over the last few years never happened.
I stood in front of my dad's dream house yesterday and felt my backpack turn 10 times heavier and a bitter lump build up in my throat. Most of the facade was still there with the girly pink paint, but out of what used to be the attic roof were metal skeletons to support another floor. It's being turned into a commercial building by the guy who bought it. I fought back the tears as I watched sweaty men work through our old home like it wasn't once a place with a happy, thriving family. In my head, I called my dad's name in a desperate scream and begged him to come back home. I was sober enough to know that's never gonna happen.
So I came to see all the people I used to live with in my dad's family complex. I'm glad to know they're doing fine for themselves and that they're all moving on. I guess some good things just don't work out and need to be closed, but family is forever.
I've never been good with closures but when I passed by our old house earlier today on my way home, I didn't feel anything. This morning, what used to be our mansion just appeared like another pink building on a cold, deserted street. And now, sitting here in a plastic chair, facing my laptop, writing a blog entry about closure, and enjoying the beautiful view of morning sunshine make the metal garden roof of our across-the-street neighbor shine like a hundred diamonds, I knew I was home. This is home.
Last week, a Facebook post of a friend told me to do something my future self will thank me for.
Today, that's gonna be letting go.
Case closed.
I once blogged about the song, "Let Go, Let God." Aside from the beautiful lyrics, it also has a beautiful back story. Letting go is one of life's lessons that's difficult to learn. But somewhere along the way, through divine intervention, we imbibe it.
ReplyDelete