At The bridge

The wooden bridge that she was standing on was creaky and old. She stood at the bridge glancing over the river that was flowing at its own speed. Life had paused for her - but nothing seemed to stop the river. The gurgling water was the only sound she could hear. Her shirt fluttered in the breeze that seemed to be blowing harder than ever. She nearly hugged herself. She was crying. Because she knew her marriage had ended. Because she was worried where things were going to take her.

Between the past we liked and the future we wanted, lies this bridge. The bridge is to be crossed - the transition expected is the one to be realized.

After broken relationships, friendships or unsuccessful ventures, we often stand on this bridge - staring at the river of emotions moving at their own speed without realizing that this bridge needs to be crossed. To reach the other side.

The bridge of getting over a relationship of any sort does not separate two relationships. It connects them. One relationship crumbling leads to another being made.

Don't stand on the bridge. Don't stare at the river. Cross the bridge. There's a new stretch of land.