Closure. It was something she had longed for, begged for, something she
thought she would never receive. In truth, she had all but given up on ever
speaking to him again let alone ever knowing why. But that ghastly time was
locked away in her mind. Sealed in a tight little box and hidden in a corner to
collect dust. Of course it didn't stay sealed. How could it, when the scars on
her heart, on her self-esteem, her pride remained fresh enough to seep and
bleed a little whenever there was the slightest chance of rejection in her
current life.
She didn't think of it, of him, often. The scars were not uppermost on
her conscious mind. She had put him and them out of her mind and heart when she had
fallen in love with her husband. Her husband. She smiled just thinking of him.
The man who had picked up the broken pieces of her and fitted them back
together. The man who had tried his best, had worked hard, to heal those
wounds. He'd succeeded in growing the shiny new scar tissue over her hurts, but
the hurt, rejected girl she had been was still inside. For years, that girl
whispered, quietly. "How can he see you the way he says? He's just saying
all the right things, he can't possibly mean them. You are not beautiful or
amazing or any of the wonderful things he says. You're not worthy of a
wonderful man like him."
And when life happened, as it did, and things weren't as wonderful
between them because they were tired, irritable or just busy, the voice would
be stronger. When things were great and they were closer than ever, the voice
would grow quiet, unable to destroy their happiness. But never did it leave
completely. There were other incidents that contributed. Ones from before this
one and from after. They all served to strengthen that horrible voice, to give
it ammunition and power.
Then one day, out of the blue came the opportunity to speak of it once
again. To ask why. Why did you do that to me? What did I do to make you treat
me that way? And for the first time, he tried to answer her as honestly as
possible. "I was young," he said. "I cared too much what others
thought and too little about the consequences of my actions. I cared too much
about myself and my standing with my friends to realize that I would be hurting
you. I didn't even think of it when I lashed out at you."
Honest, yes. Apologetic even. It would do.
As he castigated himself and swore that the incident had changed him,
that he'd become cautious in his words, because of her, she wondered "Is
this what closure feels like? Looking into the past with eyes unfettered by
hurt, by disappointment, and realizing that what had caused so much heartache
was so childish." It was a revelation. Emotions always seem bigger when
they are happening. If you are able to
let go of the emotion, time will bring maturity and cool dispassion. Those feelings
that she had had would have dissipated quite easily if they hadn't been locked
into place by his callous treatment of them. And by her bewilderment at
everything that had come after.
Looking at him from the perspective of her life now, she wondered what
she could have seen in him, when the man who had chosen her, had loved her even
when she was broken, who was her true soul mate, was so very different. Her
husband was her other half in a way that no other could ever be. Closure, she finally understood, was simply a
matter of realizing that what had happened was for the best. If she hadn't been
hurt before, how could she realize how precious what she had found really
was. She looked around at her home, her
husband and her child with a lightness of heart that came from setting down a heavy
burden. She was happy.
