I often think about people that have come and gone. Some more than others of course. In recent years I've grown a small community of friends and found family and that's come with a great amount of personal growth and social fortune.
But as with anything there are negatives, one of which being those that I've grown close to that simply didn't work out in the long term, despite having a deep connection. If you've ever exchanged cordial words with someone you know you'll likely never truly trust again, you know how fake you can feel in that moment. Shouting on the inside, prosecuting their and your own actions and behaviors that led to this moment while speaking entirely contrary to those feelings.
I've never wanted to hurt anyone. Even in the final moments of a friendship or relation to a person I've often tried to not burn bridges and yet it seems that down the line I will occasionally feel regret at not having done so as if I've left my feelings on the table bottled up in favor of the idea of social and personal maturity. I could stare at that bottle pondering seemingly forever what I could or couldn't have done to avoid it's coming into existence. Oftentimes that status-quo is as painful as a burned bridge. I can still peer over from time to time and look at the imagery of what once was a place I'd frequent. I can see the flowing water beneath the bridge. I can see the individual stood on the other side, cut off from trust and meaningful contact. I can never reasonably cross that bridge again for reasons I've yet to truly ascertain. I can only speak to the feelings of lost trust and a need for distance.
On the other end, times where I or others have been explosive, times where the situation was so absurd and hurtful that a bottle couldn't contain the contents, in the long term I've felt mostly remorse and wishing that we'd maintained some semblance of maturity and contact. I can look at the charred remains. I can see the other person but there's seemingly no way to cross that path without arduous effort. One might argue that bridges can be re-built. I've often found that doing so simply leads to that initial situation. You can will something back into existence if both parties are willing, but the char--the scents--will never fade.
It's all a bit absurd in my mind. Emotions are the most difficult thing to unravel and understand. Primarily because in both of those situations, logic is defied. I should be happy I've kept in touch. I should be happy that I've removed myself from a hurtful situation. These things should be true depending upon the context in which they've been applied but they often are not. Thinking on it, both of these situations led to the same disconnect. The only difference between them is a moral grandstanding of the individual taking the higher road. And I'm supposed to be happier with that.
But I am not.
Particularly when it comes to myself. I have worked a lot over the years toward being a kind individual to others but I am finding it oddly difficult to be the same toward myself. I've some frustration toward myself for not being happy with those situations. As if there's an expectation of the ego that some unquantifiable condition hasn't been met for truly moving on.
I hope to ascertain that condition before I die.