Everyone says they want closure. To end a chapter in their life and be able to move on and begin again or continue evolving. My whole intention of coming on this journey was to achieve a level of closure about my past, my issues and fears and residual trauma from the events which made me leave in the first place.
But closure sucks. Im not the kind of person to cling to the pain as if it were a security blanket, cherishing the excuse to behave a certain way or do some things that are *just* on this side of dangerous. But it does mean that whether or not I am prepared for it, this chapter has ended. Over. Finished. Bye bye.
And it caught me unprepared and unawares. So now I am scrambling to pull together my scattered emotions and thoughts about this turn of events, and pack it up nicely along with other resolved issues in my therapy trophy room in my head.
My ex sent a bunch of boxes over today with my stuff. Only 2 out of the 5 items I actually requested were among the refugees, but sorting through the boxes was a trip down a path of memories I had thrown the map away to.
I managed to sift everything down to one large sized box, which I am trying to figure out how to get back to the US.
This is the culmination of months and months of negotiations, frustrations and reliving the horror of being married to that man.
BUT - its all over now. And I have closure. Big whoop de do.
Its kind of a letdown.
Poopyhead.
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