Finally

Finality is a funny thing. At nearly every significant or pivotal point in my life, I think I’ve always hoped for closure, because it’s easier to move on to something new when you know where everything else in your life stands. Yet at the same time, I’m inclined to say that I don’t really like closure, because it’s essentially an ending, and I hate saying goodbye to people as well as experiences. I know I have to keep growing and progressing, but there are certain things–or people–in life that are hard to let go of, even when you know you should. And recent events have made me wonder what makes it so hard to let go, to accept finality in all but the most obvious or necessary moments.

First, I think it’s worth acknowledging that there are some relationships we won’t ever let go of, because they’re supposed to be permanent. Your relationship with your immediate family, those with friends who have become like family–these are the ones we never allow to leave us, because they are inherently everlasting. What binds us to these people is much stronger than nearly everything else, or anything else that could threaten to break those bonds, and so they remain in our lives.

But then there are our other relationships, the ones that supposedly happen for a reason, which naturally suggests that they don’t all have to last. How, then, do we determine which ones do? I suppose the easy answer is that we invest in the ones we hope will last. Yet there may come a time when the investment doesn’t bring as big of a return as we would have hoped, or perhaps more accurately, doesn’t bring the kind of return that we wanted. When we reach this point in a relationship, when it becomes exhausting or confusing or frustrating to continually invest in it, what convinces us to let go? Or perhaps the better question is, what convinces us to hold on?

I think we hold on because we keep hoping it’ll get better, and because we have certain expectations of the other person–and a belief that this person cares enough to notice. Sometimes, we reach a point where we’re let down enough to let go. But I think there are just some people that we can’t let go of, as hard as we try and as much as they keep disappointing us. And even if we succeed in distancing ourselves for a brief period of time, it’s easy to end up back where we originally were: sitting, waiting, wishing, to quote Jack Johnson. Because we think that maybe, this time will be different. Because there are signs. Sure.

The danger of all this hoping, as life has shown me and as Thought Catalog has astutely pointed out, is that it can become all-consuming, to the point where we don’t even realize it. And then you wake up one day and the following becomes clear:

To live the constant, quiet humiliation that comes with being dependent on someone in a way that is not reciprocated erodes the self-esteem like little else can. I know this, of course, because I have been the one who loves more.

When you love more, when you can feel that your partner does not return so much of what is essential to you, you start to love yourself less. You see yourself as worthy only to the degree that this person whom you love so much has deemed you worthy, and if they are not loving you with as much passion or conviction as you love them, there must be something wrong with you. There is almost no fault in them which you are not ready to excuse, ready to brush over with the incredibly forgiving rendering of your admiration — and yet your flaws all become tangible, justifiable reasons for them not to be happy with you. In many ways, the more indifferent they become towards your overtures, the more resolved you become to convincing them otherwise.

Suddenly, approval and affection from your partner become the only kind of currency that matter to you — the only thing capable of convincing you that you are good and worth loving. Because so much of you has been invested in convincing them that you deserve them, if they don’t recognize it, it can feel that no one ever will.

~ Chelsea Fagan, “When You Are the One Who Loves More”

And then you find ways to get back to yourself, to think about you more and always. And it feels amazing when you become your priority again. But I’m not sure that the hope, the one that was such a large part of your being for so long, ever goes away. I think it’s compartmentalized, and you try to forget it’s there. But little things–an unprecedented hello, a mention of their name–reminds you it’s there. And when this person finally begins to surprise you and live up to your expectations, you start to think all that hoping, all that holding on, was worth it, even though in the moment it seemed foolish, pathetic, or even a waste of time. So is finality, closure, really as great as everyone makes it out to be? Is it always the best option? Because if you had really, truly, closed the door on that relationship in your life, the joys of that surprise would never have been.

This leads me to the conclusion that there probably wasn’t really any closure, any finality, at all. The time away was an intermission of sorts, where you had the choice to either leave for the night or stick around in case something great happened. And despite the connotations of that word, this intermission is not always brief–it can last for months, maybe even years. It just puts the pressure on the other person for once, because this person’s conduct will determine if the intermission is truly an intermission or if it lasts indefinitely.

Because in the end, what we all want is to know that we are valued. That our investment was worth it. That we are loved for who we are already, not who we tried to be for someone else. That we are important to someone, someone who doesn’t have to let us in or who doesn’t have to be in our lives at all. And as much as I appreciate finality, there are circumstances where I just can’t justify it, especially if it means not getting something we’ve always wanted–in the way we’ve always wanted it.

We need to move away from this constant need of coming across as calm, cool and collected. WE WEREN’T BUILT TO BE CALM, COOL, AND COLLECTED. If we were, it wouldn’t feel so fucking exhausting all the time. It would, you know, come naturally to us. You know what comes naturally to human beings though? Being open, being messy, being raw, being unfiltered, having lots of feelings. Why should we have to stifle our true nature? Let’s go after the things we want, let’s love each other brutally and honestly, and not worry about the consequences. Let’s release the feelings inside of us and let them land somewhere special. Otherwise, we might have a lifetime of longing in front of us.

~ Ryan O’Connell, “You Need to Go After the Things You Want”