Do You Really Need Closure?

For the longest time, I thought closure had to come from someone else.

A conversation. A final text. A proper explanation. Something that made the ending make sense.

But what happens when you don’t get that? What happens when someone walks away without warning, without answers, and you’re left with nothing but questions that replay in your mind like an unfinished movie?

That’s where I found myself. One day, everything felt open and full of potential. The next? It was like the door slammed shut without a word. And for weeks months, even I kept holding on to the possibility of understanding. I’d draft texts in my mind, imagine conversations, rehearse what I would say if I got the chance to “clear the air.”

But slowly, I started realizing something: closure isn’t always about answers. Sometimes, it’s about accepting that the chapter is over, even if the last page was ripped out.

There were things I wanted to say. Things I could have said. But I also had to ask myself: what would that give me that I couldn’t give myself?

I wanted to be heard but more than that, I wanted to be safe. Safe to be myself. Safe to speak and not be misunderstood. Safe to be vulnerable without it being used against me.

And that became my turning point.

What I Learned About Closure:

Closure is not a conversation, it’s a decision.
You decide when to stop replaying the past. You decide when to choose peace over questions.
If someone wanted to clarify, they would.
People make time for what matters to them. Silence is often your loudest answer.
You don’t chase clarity from someone who walked away in confusion.
If they shut the door without letting you speak, they likely weren’t ready to understand you anyway.
Your dignity is louder than any last word.
Closure is knowing you showed up with your heart and didn’t let it change who you are.
Sometimes, the ‘why’ doesn’t matter. The ‘what’s next’ does.
You can forgive, even without the apology. You can heal, even without the explanation.

I used to think I needed closure from the person who left. But now I see the truth:

The real closure was in choosing not to go back to where I was misunderstood.