Murder Without Death

I was talking to a friend I haven't talked to in a long time last night. I told him about all of the pains I have been through since we last met and about all of the bridges I have burned. I do that so much... burn bridges that is. I don't know why. He told me that people are all the time telling you that you shouldn't burn your bridges, but to him, it is more important to be who you are than to conform to what other people say you should do or be. Sometimes I feel like who I am is nothing more than a reckless monger holding a pack of matches in his left hand and a gas tank in his right. Burning bridges is what I do. But I was thinking about it in relationship to murder today. When I have wronged someone so horribly as to where they never want to see me ever again, it's almost as if I have killed them in a fit of pride. I will never see them again, and if I were to, it wouldn't be them, but an awkward and defensive form that has every right to exist.

Why do I burn bridges?

I think some of it has to do with pride and the other half deals mainly with fear. Burning a bridge, for me, is like pulling up a drawbridge... permanently. It keeps "them" or "it" out of my city walls. I do it with ease too. Without a simple thought I do it because it feels safe. Once the bridge is burned, I don't even stop there. I then go thumping my chest to all of my friends, telling them in a very engaging manner how glorious the flames were as I victoriously put the situation in its place. But at night, often times in my dreams, the truth eventually comes out. I'm afraid of the pain that would ensue if I were to keep those bridges alive. "They" or "it" would have the power to hurt me. I would have no control.

So time passes and I become sorry. I no longer feel it to have been a worthwhile action to take because I end up lonely and more often than not, the subject goes on unaffected or the person, without care. Simply put, I lose, and even if they were to forgive me, it would be unlikely for me to forgive myself.

You would think an understanding of self such as this would curb my habits and bring me towards a better place, but it doesn't. No matter what I do, burning bridges always seems to be the easiest and most painless way out, and so I continue to do so. Hah, not to condone my actions or anything, but maybe the answer would be someone who cared enough to swim across the bridgeless gap and smack me in the face. Whatever. I'm going to stop writing now. I've far passed the line of ridiculousness. I'm going to bed. Peace and love.