The Myth of Closure?

"Sometimes the only way to get closer, is by accepting that you'll never get it. ” ~ John Mark Green

People talk about closure like it’s a destination. Like one day you arrive there, tie everything up neatly, and finally walk away from the past with peace.

But the truth is, some chapters don’t end that way.

Some chapters close without answers. Without apologies. Without someone finally admitting what they did or acknowledging what you survived. You don’t get the final conversation. You don’t get the moment where everything suddenly makes sense.

Sometimes the door just shuts.

For a long time, I thought the only way forward was to bury everything so deep it could never climb back out.

That night, I made a decision. I would bury the past so deep it could never climb back out. I had lost pieces of myself, and no one knew if I’d ever get them back. So I promised myself I wouldn’t go looking. I would lock the door, throw away the key.

Forget the past.
Live from now.
You have a second chance.
Close the chapter.
It doesn’t exist.

You’re not marked anymore.

But the truth is—

You can never really forget.

A smell.
A song.
A memory.
A careless word.
A hard season.

They can all yank it back to the surface right when you think you’ve finally outrun it.

That’s the part no one talks about when they talk about healing. Moving on doesn’t mean the past disappears. It means you learn to live forward anyway.

For years I thought closure meant the past losing its power.

Now I know something different.

Closure isn’t about the past changing.
It’s about you changing.

It’s realizing that the voices that tried to define you don’t get the final word.

Sometimes, if I’m honest, I still hear it. Mr. Williams’ voice echoing from years ago:

“She won’t amount to much.”

But the difference now is that voice doesn’t get to decide the ending.

Now, when that memory shows up, I don’t run from it.

I whisper back:

Just you wait.

And then I keep moving forward.