Sunrise

I wrote about Daisy before. At the time, I'd remarked on how calmly she told me that she'd broken up with her boyfriend. The thing though, is that a few months later, I soon realized that she was clearly far more affected the break-up than she let on.

Post-graduation, Daisy and I have maintained our friendship through music. She recommends a song to me, I recommend a song to her, and our shared playlist is now at 40 songs. Usually, each music rec is accompanied by an exchange updating our daily lives. But more often, Daisy will call me without warning to talk. And for the most part, I will set down whatever I'm doing and oblige.

On Friday, half an hour before my date, Daisy called to confide in me. She revealed that she'd been seeing a therapist. Through the help of therapy, she'd come to the realization that she was over him but not over the breakup itself. Seeking closure, she contacted her ex-boyfriend, whom she hadn't spoken to in six months, and asked to meet. He agreed to meet. I told her to keep me updated.

As it turned out, instead of the closure she'd been hoping for, she left feeling even more confused than ever. Her ex-boyfriend admitted that he'd been insecure about her feelings for him, and how he'd hoped that she would fight for him when he suggested a break. But he didn't know Daisy as well as he should have--that she would guard her emotions and put up a strong face. In the end, she'd appeared unaffected by the break-up, and he parted ways thinking that he had done the right thing.

And while she'd convinced herself that he had moved on with his life, her ex-boyfriend admitted that he was still physically and emotionally attracted to her, and that he had missed her for the past six months. However, he came short of saying that he wanted to be in a relationship with her again. He also told her that when he watched the film Friends with Benefits recently, it reminded him of her.

Instead of joining in her rage at that last part, I saw things differently. I watched Friends with Benefits three years ago and can barely recall the plot, but I harbor a vague recollection of Mila Kunis being the one hesitant to get more serious and emotionally invested in Justin Timberlake. But even if my memory serves me wrong, I know one thing. The man I met last spring did not strike as the type who would so callously suggest being fuck buddies to his ex-girlfriend whom he hasn't spoken to in six months, especially after admitting that he is still emotionally attracted to her. When I told Daisy so, it sent her into a tailspin. Because everyone else she'd talked to had immediately written him off as an insensitive douchebag, making it that much easier for her to convince herself that she was done with him.

Why didn't he say straightforwardly that he wanted to get back together? she asked. Because you didn't give him an opening, I said. Because it's that much harder to open yourself up to rejection when you don't think you have a chance. Why didn't he say anything for six months, if he still cared? Why did I have to be the one to initiate this conversation? Because I know that as much as I might want closure, I am too scared and passive to ever act on that impulse. Because he might be the same as me.

Let me ask you this, I said to her. If there had been no confusion, if he'd made it clear that he wants to get back together with you.... would you be receptive to it? If yes, then I don't think you were right about being over him but not the break-up. I think deep down, you still have feelings for him, which is why you haven't been able to let go and have been so desperate to find closure.

I warned Daisy with the caveat that I didn't know him and could be reading him completely wrong, suggesting that she talk to her therapist before taking what I said too seriously. As it turned out, her therapist read the situation exactly the same as I did. None of Daisy's other friends had seen it the same way. I joked with Daisy that the next time she needed a therapy session, I could just chat for free. But the whole experience made me reflect for some time. Because while I am apparently becoming very good at dispensing advice about interpersonal relationships, there are some things I can't bring myself to do. Daisy was able to initiate the first step by summoning up the courage to e-mail her ex, when she could have easily just let sleeping dogs lie and wonder for the rest of her life how things had gone south. I talked to Y just on Friday about how life isn't a nice and neat narrative, how there are just things in life that we can never expect to get closure for. But now I wonder, if I weren't so proud and so afraid of making myself vulnerable to hurt, is the idea of closure actually as elusive as I've convinced myself to believe?