The Relationship Bridge [a ramble]

"Does love lose all validity for how it ends? It might, of course, though endings don't easily erase history; rather they seal it."

When one genuinely cares for another it is not easily erased, despite any unfortunate event that happens or complicates an already-complicated relationship. Despite every little happening and how badly the companionship ends, the fact is this: If a person ever truly, wholeheartedly cared for another, these feelings would not suddenly pack their bags and walk away unscathed; feelings do not dissipate suddenly or burst into flames. Anyone who can say "I just don't love you anymore" never truly loved you in the first place.

I don't think I easily disengage. The filing cabinets that line in inside of my brain, the ones to hold my memories, they continually pull out the good moments and replay them for me. Reminding me how things were when they were good, when they felt right and I was, for the most part, happy. And if viewed in its entirety, I would remember clearly that it wasn't ever perfect, even when things were going well; I cried even when I thought I was happy. And in truth, I cried because I cared for someone who did not particularly care for me the way I wanted him to and hoped that someday he would (that, of course, is a comment card all of its own). Things were complicated and fun, comfortable and imperfect, but eventually the relationship bridge that was building was structurally damaged when the two architects realized their blue prints were dissimilar. The structure collapsed beneath them and they began picking up the pieces they thought were worth salvaging. In time it was realized that the bridge was condemned and the work was abandoned.

That same bridge cannot be rebuilt. Or, maybe it can and I am just unwilling to rebuild. After all, insurance does not cover these types of catastrophes, you know. But I'd still like to be friends with my fellow architect. And that is probably a character flaw, but it is one I'm working with.