Single & Fabulous? | ‘Why it’s time to dump your sack of relationsh*t’
In the third series of regular columns about modern gay life, sex and relationships, Anthony Gilét finds that closure is easier said than done…
You know that elated feeling you get after you’ve just had mind-blowing sex? Skipping around on cloud nine with a goofy post-coital smile plastered on your face? Yeah? Well that’s me right now. Not the sex part, unfortunately. Just sitting here looking like a Cheshire cat with a Valium up it’s arse. But can you really blame me? I’d waited months to hear from The Italian, and rekindle what we had. I know I was moving on – but things can change.
Because the thing is, as much as you announce to your friends, “I’m over ‘im!”, spilling your Long Island Iced Tea as you gesture emphatically, that doesn’t make it true. You won’t get over someone until you’re ready. And maybe not at all if you don’t have closure; which is why when you say that you’re moving on, you should mean it.
But honestly, had anybody even heard of ‘closure’ before Rachel Green drunkenly slurred it down the phone to Ross, while on a date with someone else? As young daters, the concept of closure isn’t really something that concerns us. Not when it isn’t in the form of rebound dick, anyway.
In fact, we’re more than happy to leave our emotional entrails all over the city like a gruesome breadcrumb trail that only leads back to our last disappointment. It’s a bit like that advert for constipation where the woman is carrying around a bag of stool with her. Dump that sack of relationship shit (‘relationshit’): it’s doing you and your future relationships no favours.
In an ideal world, we’d leave our past relationships behind like a summer holiday; sad that it’s over, but fond of the memories. Realistically, it’s more like escaping an explosion and being grateful that you’re still alive. Even if your emotional burns are third degree.
I mean, anybody who’s tried to put a good book down in the middle of a chapter will know how hard – not to mention unsatisfying – it is. And even when you pick it back up, you wouldn’t move on to the next chapter without finishing the one you’re on. So why do we attempt it in relationships?
As humans, no matter how laid back, things are just easier when everything is neat and tidy; our bedrooms, workspaces, emotions… anal sex.
Open endings lead to thousands of questions with even more answers; ones that you might never have the answers to. But closure isn’t always about understanding what led to the cliffhanger; it’s about knowing what comes next. It’s about having certainty that one chapter is closed, and another is starting.
While you dally in this limbo of not knowing whether to turn around and try again – or struggle on, sack of relationshit in tow – you’re not mentally ready to welcome a new meaningful relationship.
So, how do you move forward when you can’t help but look backwards? Well, if you’re unsure that you’re making the right decision – maybe you should give it another go, or at least attempt to. Nobody wants to mope about “the one that got away” while they go to bed alone after three bottles of wine on a Tuesday night. And you never know, it might work out… Then again, it might not.
I guess I was lucky. Here I was, sitting, waiting for my Italian to come to his senses, tell me he was done playing games, and that we were going to walk off into the Mediterranean sunset together… Of course he didn’t, though. Actually the message was just a rather ambiguous check-up on me (with a side of guilt alleviation, no doubt). So sure, things can change, but often they don’t.
I felt weird. I couldn’t pinpoint if my heart was breaking or break-dancing. But the following day was like the first day of summer; birds tweeting, trees flourishing, sun shining. And while it might seem like I was high on LSD, I was actually just off my face on closure. I could finally ditch that weight of uncertainty.
Perhaps it wasn’t initially what I wanted to hear. But it was what I needed to move on… No regrets, no hard feelings, no sack of relationshit.
Anthony Gilét is a London-based writer, blogger and YouTuber – follow him on Twitter @Anthony_Gilet.
More from Single & Fabulous?:
‘How a lonely Valentine’s taught me a valuable lesson in love’
‘Why are we so perfless to resist certain men, even the wrong ones?’