Why We Always Want the End of the Story (Even If We Have to Make It Up)

We all love a good ending.

Not just in obvious stories, like books and movies, but in everywhere in life: in relationships, in arguments, and in the stories we tell ourselves. We want the dots connected, the characters explained, and the lose ends tied up. And, it's a bonus if the story ends in a way that feels good or confirms what we already believe.

But the problem is real life doesn't always give us satisfying endings. Sometimes the story doesn't finish. Sometimes the other person doesn't explain themselves. Sometimes we are left with silence, ambiguity, or worse—an ending that contradicts what we want or expect. So, instead of sitting with the discomfort of ambiguity, our brains get to work filling in the blanks.

This need for "narrative closure" isn't just a personality quirk. It's a deeply wired psychological and neurochemical process. Research shows that our brains are built to seek resolution. We want to know what happened. The kicker is that if we don't know what happened, we make it up—sometimes without even realizing we made it up!

This is where our need for the resolution can create real problems in our relationships.

Why We Make Up the End of the Story

Psychologists call this the need for closure—our desire to reach a conclusion that gives us psychological relief from uncertainty, ambiguity, or confusion. But, it’s not about truth, it’s about emotional comfort. Social psychologist Arie Kruglanski coined the term in the 1990s, describing it as a kind of mental decision-making framework that helps us reduce the discomfort of “not knowing.”

And when it comes to relationships, not knowing is often the most intolerable part.

Does this sound familiar?

➡️ He didn’t text back—so we assume he’s mad.
➡️ She walked out of the room—so we decide she’s punishing us.
➡️ They haven’t answered our email—so we fill in the silence with a story about rejection or disrespect or abandonment.

Here’s the catch: our brains are wired to value coherence over accuracy. That means if there’s a gap in the story, we’ll fill it with whatever fits our worldview—even if it’s wrong. This process is called confabulation, and it’s not lying. It’s an unconscious, automatic attempt to make sense of missing information. And the more anxious or unresolved we feel, the more pressure there is to invent a satisfying ending—one that helps us feel more certain or in control.

Why We Want the Ending to Agree With Us

It’s not just that we want closure—we want our version of closure.

We want the ending to match our beliefs, our fears, or our need to be right. According to research on belief congruence, we feel most satisfied when the ending confirms our view of the world. In other words, if you already believe people can’t be trusted, you’ll probably interpret a breakup or conflict as more evidence of that. If you believe you're hard to love, you might decide the silence or withdrawal means you were never enough to begin with.

The brain seeks emotional consistency. Not truth. 😲 And certainly not nuance.

This becomes a big deal in relationships, because it means we’re often not responding to what actually happened—we’re responding to the story we’ve told ourselves about what happened. And past wounds, unresolved fears, or untested assumptions can lead to an ending that fits what we believe about ourselves, but leads to miscommunication, resentment, and unnecessary conflict.

The Brain Chemistry of Incomplete Stories

Neuroscience helps explain why this is so hard to resist. When we’re in the middle of a story—especially one that’s emotionally charged—our brains light up in multiple regions at once: visual areas help us picture what’s happening, the limbic system kicks in to process emotions, and dopamine floods our reward centers in anticipation of a resolution. This is why we have a hard time putting down a really good book. Have you ever stayed up way too late reading a book (or bingeing a show) that you couldn't stop reading? This is why.

The anticipation of closure keeps us hooked. Once the story ends, our reward system quiets down—and that’s why even "happy endings" can feel a little underwhelming.

The problem arises when we don’t get an ending. In this case, our nervous system remains in the activated state. We feel unsettled, irritated, and anxious. Because that isn't a pleasant state to be in our brain does what it’s built to do: it tries to finish the story, whether it has the facts or not to settle us down and make us more comfortable.

Why This Matters in Real Life

When you're in a relationship—romantic, familial, professional—it’s easy to confuse the story in your head with the story that's actually happening.

You assume the worst. You project. You reach for certainty. And if you're not careful, you start treating people according to the ending you've imagined, instead of what's actually going on.

This is especially true if you’ve been hurt before. Past trauma sharpens the need for narrative closure. It makes us less tolerant of ambiguity and more likely to jump to conclusions. And if we’re used to feeling powerless, we’ll reach for stories that at least feel like they give us some control—even if they’re wrong.

What You Can Do Instead

If you find yourself in this position (and we've all been there), here are a few things you can do to counteract the story you're making up and get to the truth.

1. Name your discomfort: When you feel the urge to “finish” the story, pause. Notice what emotion is driving it—fear, anger, rejection, confusion?

2. Check your assumptions: Are you reacting to facts—or to a story your brain is filling in?

3. Practice staying with uncertainty: This takes work. But developing tolerance for ambiguity is a sign of emotional maturity. The more comfortable you get with not knowing, the less you’ll rely on false stories to soothe yourself.

4. Get curious, not certain: Instead of deciding why someone did what they did, ask yourself: “What else could be true?” or “What might I be missing?”

5. Talk it out, not around it: If something feels unresolved, consider going to the source. But do it with openness and curiosity, not accusation. Ask questions instead of making declarations.

Bottom line: Your brain loves a tidy ending. But life isn’t always tidy. And in relationships, chasing closure by inventing stories often causes more harm than good.

If you can learn to slow down, challenge your assumptions, and sit with uncertainty—even when it’s uncomfortable—you’ll create more space for real connection, truth, and growth.