All she wanted was closure. She just wanted to know why. She wanted to get over it, but she couldn’t without having all of the answers. She needed to know why. She needed to know how. She needed answers.
Until she got them.
The day it happened she was thinking about it. She was still wondering why. She was tense just thinking about it. She’d been tense all week. Because as much as she wanted to know, she also didn’t. Why would she? Would knowing keep her up at night just like not knowing did? Would knowing clear her mind?
It didn’t.
The day it happened she shook the whole time. She didn’t say what she wanted to and she didn’t do what she wanted to. She’s still shaking now, just thinking about it. Because why didn’t she say it? Why didn’t she ask questions? Why?
She wanted to say no. She wanted to walk away and not look back and be okay with that. She didn’t. Her body betrayed her as she nodded. As she talked. As she laughed. It betrayed her as she smiled and she responded, and all she wanted to do was walk away and leave it all behind her.
But she also wanted to say that she was hurt. And that she didn’t deserve it, and that no excuses or stories would make it okay. No random conversations and forced apologies would heal her. She wanted to say that she didn’t need to hear it and that as much as she was over it she also wasn’t ever going to forget.
She still thinks about it. It’s like it’s ingrained in her bones, and no matter how hard she tries, it just never goes away. No matter what she does it never escapes her. She tries. It doesn’t work.
She thought the closure would help. She was certain that just knowing why would make it easier—would make it suddenly forgettable. But it didn’t because here she is writing about it.
Despite her best efforts, it doesn’t work. Despite her best efforts, it’s floating around. It’s still popping up. She still can’t forget. The closure just brought up more questions. Why did it happen? Why did it happen to her? Why not anyone else? Why, why, why?
But she’ll never know the answer. She’s not sure she wants to, because if closure didn’t work once, why would it work again? If one answer brought so many more questions, why would she want more answers? She doesn’t anymore.
So she’ll sit here and write about it to get all of the thoughts out of her head. She’ll sit here and write about how even though she’s putting them down, they’ll find their way back in. Even though she’s trying, it’s not going to work.
Even though she got closure, it’s never really over.
