Tag Archives: forgiveness

Chocolate Closure

I’m not a big dessert person at all, but I do enjoy a little piece of chocolate every night. It’s something I consider my chocolate closure on the day. Although I am partial to the small Hershey’s Bliss chocolates, Dove Promises come in a close second. The prices are practically the same, yet when it comes down to it, I usually throw the Dove Promises in my cart.


Because I get more than just a small piece of (delicious) chocolate with the Dove—I get a small little note inside each wrapper.


I have since made a pledge to overachieve this promise on the weekends.

That doesn’t sound like much and the sayings are rather lame, but I have to admit that I look forward to reading the message each night when I eat my piece (or two) of chocolate. It’s like a fortune cookie that actually tastes good. When I open the wrapper of each Hershey’s Bliss, I am faced with an empty wrapper and a sigh.


Because I get just a small piece of (delicious) chocolate with the Hershey’s, and that’s it. With all other factors being virtually equal, it’s that little extra something with the Dove that persuades me to buy that particular product. It’s that little note—my chocolate closure.

Where am I going with this?

I’m not sure if it’s age, experience or ambivalence, but I’ve gotten rather good at letting things go. There’s not that anxiety hanging on every decision I make (or don’t make.) There’s not that stress of wondering what I think others want me to do. There’s not the resentment or frustration I used to haul around each day. For the most part, I do what I want and move on.

I’ve come a long way. I’m proud of that.

But there’s still that part of me that wants closure, and not just of the chocolate variety. When I send an e-mail, I want a quick reply. If I leave a message, I want a swift response. When I publish something, I want feedback—good or bad—so I’m not forced to make assumptions as to just where I might stand.

There are times I still doubt what I do, say, write or sing at the top of my lungs when I think no one else can hear me. And yes, silence still makes me doubtful at times.

It’s probably the Leo in me—we are a prideful bunch.

But to that I shrug and say oh well. It’s a natural craving. Some days and some people might be more Bliss than Promises, more sugar than substance.

I’m okay with that. I’m proud of that.

So if I want a damn piece of chocolate to tell me to “Write a letter, not an e-mail” or “You make everything lovely,”  that’s all the closure that I need.

Not that I don’t expect an automatic e-mail reply, text message or comment on my Facebook status, blog post, etc. I do. I probably always will. It’s just that now I feed my feelings of insecurity with a couple pieces of chocolate at night, convince myself that I’m wonderful and then move on.

Closure—chocolate or otherwise.