Ten

open-door

There are different kinds of closure.

Depending on how things end determines the amount the door remains open, a sliver of a crack or enough of an opening to peer through.

Of course, if you’re the one trying to close the door, it’s easier to turn from it and not look back, regardless of whether the other person shoved there foot between it and the frame.

If you’re the one having it closed on your face, you may give up on pushing, and then open it up from time to time. Sometimes it just flies ajar.

It’s been exactly ten years since my first boyfriend broke up with me over the phone. Obviously there is some part of me that has not let this go as I’m still talking about it.

I don’t ruminate over it. It’s just a twinge of something. A feeling that recognizes the date, the time that’s passed, and the enormous distance between me and this person I once loved so openly and fiercely.

I’ve given up on trying to understand what happened. I’ve accepted never getting an answer.

A lot has happened in ten years. At least, for me it has. Minutes advanced to hours advanced to days advanced to months advanced to years advanced to an entire new life that included creating a new life.

A friend of mine is still close with her Ex and I marvel at this. How does it work? How does it feel?

There are plenty of people in my life who I used to be really close to that I haven’t seen or talked to in years. I think about them too sometimes, in passing.

Maybe it would only take an hour or two to catch up and then there’d be nothing left to say.

Perhaps that would be enough.

Writing this, I guess I feel like I’m mourning a death. No longer fresh, these thoughts will pass quickly and maybe this time next year it won’t cross my mind at all.

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