What Does Romantic Closure Mean to You?

Smitten blogger Gena asked what romantic closure was a few days ago, albeit more obliquely. Here's what closure means to me:

There was this show called Kingpin in 2003 that my mom, sisters and I really liked. It only ran for one season on NBC, and it was about this Mexican drug lord and his flunkies and his erratic blonde wife. Clearly they were trying to channel a Casino thing. Bobby Canavale was in it. Whatever. Anyway, like all those other one-season shows that are canceled prematurely, a cult fanbase develops around this show and demands a movie, except all of the actors have moved on by now, and there's so much hype that the movie could never live up to everyone's expectations, and--point being, closure! We all need closure!

But back to relationship closure. Even though I'm not guilty of opening old cans of worms there, I think I do have a habit of poking holes in the top of the can and looking in from time to time. When I do, I'm all like, "EWW! AND YET, I MISS THOSE WORMS, NO I DON'T, YES I DO?" And then I poke the worms and run away. Does that make sense? To clarify, I'm not talking about getting over a guy I went on a few dates with--all that really takes is hot yoga and a jalapeno margarita. Unfortunately, what I'm referring to is slightly more complicated, exacerbated by coincidental encounters and my unfortunate proclivity to drunk text. (I know.)

On the bright side, we learn stuff from poking the worms. But ugh, it still sucks. But like, a Kingpin movie would very likely double-suck, so it's a Catch-22. If lead actor Yancey Arias happens to be reading this: I am rooting for you. Maybe you should consider breaking your pattern and trying out for some comedies.