Every day if you look close enough, you will be surprised to find stories lurking in the shadows, between the side road flowers. They wait for a symbol, for a word, to punctuate a conclusion, a finale to their events.

Those stories roam the roads, abandoned by their owners. Their greatest hope is to find a loving book to take them in as new chapters of life lessons, for someone to turn the pages and cherish the meanings, to help them understand their purpose and to give them that ending full stop.

“I tried to find it
but there was no answer
at the end of the last conversation
– closure” ~ Rupi Kaur

That full stop to an event, a lesson, a story, a relationship, is more than a symbol – it’s a reassuring sound of a door closing, a moment ending, a lesson inked. Many of us take on stories from our own chapters that never got that full stop, and we beg the judges of chapters, seek their doors through different times of our lives, to “please draw that full stop here, let me rest, let this story end.”

The judges of chapters are wise, despite the many cries and calls they hear they are always composed and repeat their famed slogan “There is a reason for the extra lines in that story”. We never listen, and we go home, forging the full stop, thinking we can forcefully create the closure…and then it lingers.

The full stop keeps being misplaced, feeling foreign in a chapter that is still looking for meaning, for reason. We notice its departure and force another forged full stop to come in its place, and distract ourselves with a new chapter believing we finally found the answer. The judges of chapters are notified, and call for a meeting to discuss our forgery:

Me: I only wanted closure to the sadness you did not allow me to have

Judge: That is because that chapter is not yet done

Me: But how do you know? It is done, they are gone, and there is no turning back

Judge: If it was done, then the full stop would have appeared on its own and you would have felt relief. Seek meaning little child

Me: But I just want to move on

Judge: Moving on we must, with or without full stops

“Morning will come, it has no choice.” ~ Marty Rubin




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