So what exactly is 'closure'?

I've been thinking about the concept of 'closure' lately - how it manifests iteself and what it means to different people. An older friend of mine was married twice: the first time she married a man against her gut instinct because she was too embarassed to call the wedding off. He turned out to be abusive; he beat her and caused her to have a nervous breakdown. Yet when the marriage was annulled, she kept his name, whereas I would have shed it like a filthy second skin. Her second husband left her because he was not completely happy, and she'd kept his name, too. Why leave it as a lingering reminder of failure? She seems content with the situation, but if you leave it open-ended, how is it possible to get over, to move on, to achieve this elusive 'closure'?

When Gabriel* took his date out for dinner, only for her to tell him that she was in love with her housemate, he was stunned. Understandably, really, since for the past three months he'd been reading into her behaviour whatever he wanted to. She seemed to enjoy his company, willingly spent time with him several times a week, went out to numerous dinners, came round to our house for dinner and even invited him to come up to Edinburgh with her for New Year's, though that fell through. To my mind, she'd never displayed any sign of sexual attraction, yet Gabriel* interpreted her willingness to spend time with him as a sign of something greater, so he was temporarily crushed.

I wasn't unsympathetic, but when the following day he told me that he was thinking of spilling his guts to her, of telling her exactly how he felt, I didn't hold back. "Why on earth would you want to do that when she's made it clear that she's into someone else?"
"Because it would help me achieve closure, to draw a line under the whole thing."
"She's just told you that she's in love with another guy. How much more of a line can you draw?"

It reminded me of  the time when I set my sights on a local Big Issue seller with attractive blue eyes. He reminded me of my ex, Forrest, for all the wrong reasons - that same tall, thin, twitchy demeanour of a drug addict, the same sunken cheeks. Paul was just dreamy. After weeks of relentless pursuit, I managed to get a quick kiss on the lips, but there was no repeat performance. I was away for a couple of weeks, and he'd hooked up with an ex of his. I saw her at his spot, her arms draped around him. I'm a scab picker. "Was it me? Is it something I did?" The worst response to that, of course, is: "It's not you, it's me." At least if it is something you did, then it suggests that had you acted differently, you stood a chance. "It's not you, it's me" means that there's no hope.

Of course, I knew why Gabriel* wanted to tell her everything. It's a kneejerk reaction to rejection: "If only I said something, maybe things would be different." Willing the final outcome to be different doesn't bring it about, though, and if there's no attraction on the girl's part; then a sudden declaration of love is only likely to result in more rejection. So Gabriel's* answer as to what he hoped to achieve wasn't strictly true. Closure wasn't what he was looking for; he was looking for her to change her mind: "Oh, gosh, well, I didn't know that you felt that way about me, but now that I know, clearly I must go out with you and not my housemate."

"She can react in one of two ways," I told him. "Most likely, since she doesn't seem to be very bright, she'll be really surprised and taken aback. It'll damage the friendship that you've been cultivating with her and things will be awkward at the office for weeks.(Did I mention that Gabriel* sits opposite this girl at work? Office romances are only a good idea if the two of you simply can't keep your hands off each other, otherwise, "don't sh*t where you eat" applies). I mean,  this is the girl who didn't have it in her to tell you in person that the Edinburgh trip was off: she sent you a text. How do you think she'll deal with something as major as this? Clearly she likes you enough to spend time with you and considers you a good friend. Do you want to risk that over some unlikely chance that she'll be talked into going out with you? What you'll be doing is making her directly responsible for your feelings, which she isn't, and making her feel guilty."

Gabriel* conceded that I had a point and decided to wait for a good interval before making a decision. A couple of days and a few email exchanges with a cute girl online later and he's decided to let sleeping dogs lie. Admirable. I myself used to have real trouble leaving well enough alone. After a short but potent relationship with an abusive man in Puerto Rico, for years I dreamt of coming back and confronting him, of telling him exactly how he'd made me feel. I'd wake up in the wee hours of the morning, unable to sleep, furious at myself for putting up with lousy, disrespectful behaviour. But since I couldn't go back, eventually the feelings abated, the anger dissipated, and now if I ever think of him at all, I feel nothing.

Perhaps closure is not something that's brought about by a grand gesture or a 'final' dramatic act, although many of us hate leaving the persistent itchy scab of a relationship unfinished, especially if that other person really got under our skin. In essence, ‘closure’ is getting the ending you want, turning a bad situation into one where you get the upper hand in the end, where you triumph and feel better about yourself. We forget that life is rarely tidy. Perhaps closure is just an uneasy truce you have to reach in your own head. Perhaps true 'closure' is coming to terms with the fact that most of us will never get the kind of 'closure' we want from individuals who wronged us.