I like things to be wrapped up. Tidy. Complete. For there to be no remaining uncertainty or lingering questions. For there to be closure.

That’s what I say at least.

But when I’m honest, it’s not really closure that I seek. Rather, it’s the chance to get in the last word. It’s my deep-seeded desire to make my needs known. To express my wants. And, when necessary, to clarify how those have gone unfulfilled by you and you and you.

Closure’s just become my squeaky clean label for my favorite dirty pastime…counter-dependence.

But lately, I’ve been trying something new. Trying to be okay with the unknown, the unanswered, and the unmentioned. I’ve been trying to squeeze inside another’s shoes after sliding out of mine. Trying on this thing called empathy. It’s not an easy exercise for me. Not easy at all. And most times, I’m downright pathetic at it.

But nobody said closing the door on my old ways of closure would be easy.

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