The Bridge

I am standing on one side of a bridge. On the other side

is someone that I once put my full trust and faith into.

She used to be my best friend. Things have happened.

Situations got ugly. I know that we will never be friends

again and that is ok. I know who she truly is now and if I

had known that 3 years ago, we would never had been the

friends we became. She has opinions about me based mostly on

untruths and exaggerations that she made up in her head. My

opinions of her are based on all the back stabbing she has

done in the past year and a half.  I don't hate her. I am still angry

but mostly sad because of how things turned out. I believe

that we are both at fault for what happened. The problem is

that while I have taken responsibility for my part

of this, she will never admit she's wrong.

We are both holding detonators. It's a stand off. I can't

push the button. I don't see the point of destroying the

bridge. I don't want to be her friend ever again but our

lives intersect in so many ways that I just don't

understand why she would want to burn this bridge.

Friendship is out, but we need to co-exist peacefully.

She built this bridge. She built it for the sole purpose of

blowing it up. We never had a bridge before and now we do.

I shout to her. I want to stop the inevitable explosion.

When I look at her, all I see is pure hatred. I can

actually feel it radiating out of her. I don't really

understand why she hates me so. We both did things that got

us to this place. I place no blame on either of us and yet,

we are both to blame.

She looks at me and smiles. I think that maybe she has had a

change of heart. Maybe she sees what I do, that once the

bridge is burned, it can't ever be rebuilt. Why can't we

leave the bridge as is and promise to stay on our sides?

What if we need this bridge someday? I can't see the

friendship ever rekindling but you just never know what

might throw us back together again. Not in friendship but

as I said before, our lives have intertwining parts.

And then I see her reach for the button.

BOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!

As the smoke clears, she is still standing across from me,

smiling. She thinks she won the battle.

I walk away. I am crying, not because I lost the battle but

because I lost a friend.