In life, there are thousands or even millions or most probably unquantifiable bridges that a person has to cross. Most the time, people are thinking “What would I do when I get on the other side?” For me, the more important question is:
Should I even cross the bridge in the first place?
This is me and my pessimist self talking. What if the other side is a lot worse that this side of the bridge? What if nobody will be there for me in the other side? What if it gets lonely in there, can I go back?
Right now, there are a couple of bridges which I need to decide on crossing. First, there is the Sanity Bridge- that small pathway that divides what I want to do and the things that I need to do. Don’t get me wrong, but there are a number of sub-bridges in here too. A part of me wants, needs rather, to keep my sanity in place. I get by. I get things done. Some days, I get things done better than the others. Most of the time, my insane self just want to take the lead. Not really insane as in mental hospital insane, just the not-normal-self- insane. On the few occasions that my insane self is around, I did not just got by, I was happy going on. I am not sure if I will get things done, but surely it will be quite a ride. The insane part of me is the part that wants to just let it all go, lose anything that needs to be lost, learn the lessons that needs to be known. Every time, I choose not to cross this Sanity Bridge. I’m still here in the foot, just one step away from finally taking the first walk but also one step away from backing out and do what I know would work- staying here and get by.
Then there is the Food Bridge. The constant battle to keep looking good or keep having food. It is the worst struggle of my everyday. I would love to see the other side, the side where I can control myself and just be pretty and sexy. But there is part of me which says that nothing will come out of crossing the bridge and getting to the healthy side or vain side or both. Never been the pretty and sexy type. Never have and never will. Should I just burn this bridge? Maybe. Maybe not. Not.
The more pressing crossing that I need to decide on are the multiple What If Bridges. Gaaad, I can’t even start looking at these bridges. While on most times I just want to jump off those bridges- getting out of where I am and not knowing where I could be heading- I still do not have the heart to ask the questions and finally know what is on the other side. Out of all the bridges I have encountered, the What If Bridges are the only ones that I am sure I want to and I need to cross. But I have not. And I am weak like that. There is this particular bridge that I am looking now, it is just a matter of “Are we friends or are we more than that? If we are just friends, then please stop all the flirting.” But I cannot. I don’t now. All I know is I am not strong enough to find out what are on the other side. So I stay here, telling myself that with a little more push, I might be ready to take the first step.
All of these things are office hours rumbles that I need to get out. None of it makes sense for most of you but it made a lot of sense for me, or people like me, or not. Crossing the bridge? Staying on the bridge? Burning the bridge? Painting the bridge? Forgetting the bridge ever existed?
Or maybe to never use the bridge, jump head on, swim as fast as I can, drown for a few seconds, survive, live, and get to the place where there are no regrets, what ifs, and crossing bridges.