Closure
Sometimes closure isn’t a gentle door slowly swinging shut behind you.
Sometimes it’s a slam… sudden and loud… the kind that rattles everything inside you and leaves the air shaking for a while after.
It’s not peaceful or poetic or wrapped up neatly in understanding. It’s messy. It’s tears you didn’t plan on crying and silence you didn’t know would echo that loud.
And the hardest part is… sometimes you know the door needed to close, but it still hurts like hell that it did.
Because you didn’t want forever… not really… you just wanted a better ending.
But sometimes closure doesn’t give you that.
Sometimes it just gives you a final sound, and you’re left standing on the other side of it, trying to steady your heartbeat… and reminding yourself that even if it slammed, at least it finally shut.
This hit in a very real way. The way you described closure as something that doesn’t always feel clean or comforting is exactly what most people experience but rarely admit. It’s messy and abrupt, and even when you know it needed to happen, it still stings. I appreciated how honestly you put that into words.