It has come to my attention in the past few weeks that sometimes, the best way to love a person is to let them go. The question is then: how? Certainly, in the course of my lifetime, there have been many people who have let me go – and nearly all of them have done so without a word.
This has always confused me. Of course, there are relationships where disappearance is the only answer. If a situation is harmful, if a person’s energy has the tendency to suck you back in, then by all means, it is best to fade away into the higher end of the wave spectrum in utter silence.
Still, this type of relationship tends to be in the minority. I have found instead that most relationships that end in one’s life merit an offering of closure. Even if one’s emotions are muddled and one’s words mangled, the gesture itself of sitting in the awkwardness and discomfort transforms into a moment of deep meaning with the passage of time.
Sometimes, we are able to offer that closure in the moment. Sometimes, we are only able to provide that ending after we have had time to understand our own selves in a better light. In any case, for much of my life, I have been the sort of person to make my way back to communicating an explanation or an understanding even when I’d much rather not. I have the uncomfortable conversation in a coffeeshop or I sweat into a phone, but most often, I sit down at my desk and I write a letter.
Writing has, of course, always been my medium of choice in most any situation I find myself in, but I often choose it as an avenue for closure as it offers the other person a choice in whether or not they would like to re-engage. Most often, my letters go unanswered. That is alright. I write them with the expectation of non-response.
But to return to my point of confusion – when it is another person who has disappeared from my life without a word, with little evidence to indicate the existence of toxicity in our particular relation, I wonder what it must be like to carry such lack of resolution in one’s body. The reason I have become a person to close loops, and close them as quickly as understanding arises in my consciousness, is that I have found the sensation of holding onto thoughts unsaid to be unbearable. I have no wish to die having left someone in confusion when I had found an answer.
I understand, though. The anxiety of expressing one’s truth clamors at a high pitch the first few times. What will the other person say? Why invite this pain back into my life? Best to continue pushing it away, tamping it down. But the end of a relationship, no matter how small or insignificant, grand or strange, is a wound. And yes, there is a time to protect that wound from the elements, but to properly heal, it must be exposed to the air too. If the thought of a conversation, a real-time exchange, is simply untenable, may I recommend the use of a pen and paper? You may be surprised to find how much relief follows.
A letter will always be welcome in my home. I want you, all of you, to be able to move on too. Though it may hurt at first, remember that endings always herald new beginnings.
Music Corner: I have faith you’ll be Counting Stars soon. Don’t waste anymore time. Release! I have. So should you. You’re going to do great things, kid.
Originally posted on LinkedIn.
