This Is For The Bridges We Burned

Christian Allard
Christian Allard

If I had the chance to ask you anything and knew you’d give an inkling of a thought to responding, I’d ask you what it was about me that made it easy for you to walk away. You walked away without even a second look at the life you’d lose.

As soon as you realized I was more focused on creating a life with you before creating a life in shot-gun style, you’d already signed up with Houdini. Poof.

We used to hold conversations daily, about our hopes, fears, dreams and ambitions. We learned about each other for ten years before giving “us” a go. When you asked me, I wasn’t ready to cross that bridge just yet, so you walked to the other side. (Though you always promised we’d walk together through it all.)

Each word I used to reach out to you, you used instead as a footprint on the structure in the opposite direction. Eventually I ran out of exasperated words; you, in turn, ran out of pavement. I think of you and miss our friendship incredibly. Daily I wonder what made it so simple to let me go.

Your match burned so brightly, so willingly, that my eyes watered. I struggled internally as I watched you drop your match and burn the bridge we’d stood on for so long. Thoughts of you and I simply fall into the dark abyss below, and flow narrowly with all of the memories I have of you. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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