I once told a boy that I liked him via text. Yes I should have said it face to face, you didn’t know the circumstances, but anyway that was what happened. I told him via text. He never got back to me. Nothing. No reply. So I was naturally devastated that obviously he didn’t like me, but then I went through the list of possibilities in my brain. Maybe he never got my text? Maybe he liked me but because we both knew the inevitable and we saved ourselves the trouble? Maybe he hated me? Maybe it was so ridiculous it didn’t warrant a reply? Maybe he lost his phone? Maybe the network broke down? Maybe another girl saw the text first and deleted it? All the crazy maybe maybe maybe.
The point is if he’d replied, with literally anything, it would have been better for me. He could have said that he hated me thought I was ugly and mean and generally not a nice person to be around and that he never ever wanted to hear or see from me again. Yes, very mean, but at least then I would have known where I stood. It would have provided closure.
The truth of the matter is, I face this a lot. Not from boys, they aren’t all bad, but in the industry. In the acting industry I am faced everyday with not getting closure. You find out about an audition, you prepare, you perform and then nothing. You may never get true confirmation on whether you got the part until you hear about the person who did. Or see the final product. Often, there is no closure. And it sucks hard. How can you be ready for something else when you are constantly keeping doors open just in case?
I’ve heard you should treat the audition as the job. Get closure from the audition itself. And I’m working on not getting attached to the outcome. You know, when you find out about a job on a television show that you are auditioning for, and you’ve already pictured receiving the golden globe for the role. I think these are all practical steps I need to take.
But maybe we could also get given closure. I would not be against a generic email of thanks, but no thanks, because at least then I know. I know that it’s not me, it just is, and I can move on.