Closure from Evermore

"I'm fine with my spite, and my tears and my beers and my candles."

Closure Didn't Come From the Beers…

At Swift Steps, we use lyrics and songs to reflect on our own experiences with addiction, mental health, and recovery mine and our members. This week's song struck a chord with a lot of us and led to some powerful discussions. What our members share stays in the room; that's a promise. The reflections below are my own, from this week's song session.

This week’s song is "Closure" from Evermore

If you wanna take a listen:

Last week's surprise song was Closure.

I've heard that song a bunch of times.

I've sung the song a bunch of times.

But last week I heard it through the ears of the person I hurt the most.

And it wrecked me…

I am the one he is fine without….

I sent the letter he didn't need anymore….

He doesn't need a thing from me.

Not an explanation.

Not an amends.

Not even a coffee.

And the part that undoes me.

He's not even angry.

He's polite.

He's kind.

Always.

There's no spite for me to push against, no fight to have, no door slammed or door I could try to reopen.

Just a person who has quietly and completely, moved on.

That's its own kind of closure.

The kind you don't get to participate in.

We talk about closure like it's owed to us.

Like if the person would just say the thing, we could finally put it down.

But sometimes you're not the one who got hurt.

Sometimes you're the one who did the hurting.

And the closure you're chasing isn't healing, it's relief.

Relief from the guilt.

Relief from not having to sit with what you did.

He doesn't owe me that.

He gets to be fine without me.

He gets to be kind without it meaning anything.

He gets to live a whole life I'm not in.

That's not cruelty.

That's him choosing himself.

And honestly? Good for him. Ya know?

Here's the part I keep coming back to: the song lists beers and candles but the truth is, we all have our version.

Maybe it's not beers.

Maybe it's scrolling.

Maybe it's overworking.

Maybe it's a new person, a new project, a new story we tell ourselves about why it wasn't that bad.

Maybe it's spite dressed up as strength.

We all have a way of escaping the sit-with-it.

The work isn't picking the "right" coping skill.

The work is noticing when you're escaping at all and choosing, sometimes, to stay.

I couldn't fix what I broke by reaching out.

I couldn't write my way into feeling okay.

The letter didn't do what I wanted it to do because what I wanted was for him to need it.

He didn't.

The work wasn't getting closure from him.

The work was becoming someone who didn't need it.

That meant sitting with the guilt instead of running from it.

Letting people in who could be honest with me without letting me off the hook.

Learning that his kindness isn't an invitation back in it's just who he is, and it always was.

Closure didn't come from him.

It couldn't.

It came from me doing the work he shouldn't have had to wait for.

We're a community of Swifties finding ourselves in the lyrics in ways we didn't expect, and we've built a place to actually talk about it.

You don't have to have it figured out to start.

You don't have to be forgiven.

You just have to be honest.

Come as you are.

Just come curious.