Monday, October 4, 2010

Let's Burn That Bridge When We Get To It...

Darn these rainy days and their affect on my melancholy temperament! Not to mention I have been practicing Brahms for a performance this weekend...he always puts me in a contemplative mood. So today I give you my thoughts on burning bridges.

NOTE: For those of you interested in listening, the Brahms piece is called Ballade, it is No. 3 in a set of six pieces, opus 118 (the Intermezzo that precedes it is also heart-wrenchingly beautiful). Feel free to check out the link! A little rubato for my taste, but it works.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwskWWpUcBA&feature=related

Many of my friends have broken up with boys who have treated them like complete rubbish, and have stayed connected with them. Sometimes they get back together, other times they do not, but I am always in awe of people who can handle being friends with people in that way. I do not think I am friends with anyone I have previously dated. If I am, it is either somewhat strained and secretly I wish a bird would poop in their pasta or I feel SO badly about what I did to them I cannot bear to talk to them. In spite of these feelings, I seem to find I am the only person who thinks staying friends with ex-people out of the ordinary. I have to wonder if I am actually right (well, I always am...but still).

I have blogged before about that fact that in some capacity, we are all jerks. And I believe we spend the better part of our lives, both in the dating and in the general sense, trying to work ourselves out of this propensity. But when people are jerks to me over and over again, it becomes exceedingly difficult to really believe that anyone who does something mean is anything but a depraved scoundrel.

This is not weird right? If someone does something mean to you, especially in the dating realm, you are totally allowed to curse their name and never speak to them again right? I used to think so. And I used to tell all of my friends "Never speak to that hack again! What a loser!" and then I would proceed to list all of their crimes and why they would do better to befriend a rabid animal than come into my presence again. And I used to be astounded when they would say "Meg, I think you're being a little harsh." Key phrase: USED TO. And then something happened.

So this person, let's call him Fernando, did something really frustrating to my friend Lady Gaga. Without going into too much detail it made her question the way they related to each other, not to mention it amplified the doubts she already had in her mind. So after surviving the frustrating event, she told all of my friends what a poopface Fernando was, how he had no business ever speaking to her again, and that after this one radio hit they had to record together was over she would NEVER speak to him again. EVER. She promptly began the silent treatment and kept her shoulder refrigerated for extra coldness. And THEN....

He called to apologize!

This sent shock waves through my system. No one EVER apologizes. EVER. And he was obviously intimidated by Lady Gaga's lock-jaw treatment but he called anyway. What the heck! So I immediately went into survival mode, laughed it off, and told her to offer him a tissue because he was clearly on the verge of tears. But truthfully it really stuck with me and we discussed it at length.

So now I am all conflicted inside because part of me keeps saying "Jerk, no matter what." But part of me is thinking "but maybe...". Typical Megan move would be to burn the bridge PRONTO. I don't deal well with conflicting emotions, and certainly not when my M.O. is to hate this person for the rest of eternity. It appears that it is time to change my tune, especially having reviewed the case for Lady Gaga and Fernando.

My question then becomes when I burn a bridge, who am I actually burning? Usually, the other person never cares whether or not they ever speak to me again. Even if I curse the day they were born, they probably cry all the way to the bank about it. Is my pyro-mania with bridges preventing possible fruitful future ventures brought about by cautious friendship?If so, how many people have I spurned that could have hooked me up with free Regis and Kelly tickets or something? The prospect is very frightening.

My conclusion is this: burning a bridge is an attempt at the forgetting part of forgiving. The truth is there are always ashes and charred remnants, but it feels good to watch the fire burn. It does not feel as good to simply cross the bridge, acknowledge the passage, and move forward. If I approached things like this differently I might see I spend a lot of time looking back at the fire and not crossing the next bridge.

Curse my fatal flaws and their ability to inspire humility within me! But what better way to spend a dreary Monday morning than self-analysis and self-betterment? Who knows...maybe by not burning a bridge something really exciting might happen. I'll keep you "posted."

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