Bridges

There are two things that we need: love and life, the former is the easiest one to get, the latter is given but is never felt, only trampled.

So there must be a place where we can go away and have them both at the same time, where a little, sweet moment becomes silence, where two eyes can meet two others, and love becomes real and infinite, do you know if that is possible?

I don’t know why you are talking to me, I don’t even know, and my thoughts on the nature of life and meaning and the universe have nothing to do with you. I’m afraid we are just not compatible enough to share the same existential dread.

Give it a try, walk with me along this road, and you’ll see how much we have in common.

This is not a road, but a bridge to somewhere where all the answers to the questions I am looking for will either be answered or forgotten. So, you coming along will be of no use because what you are looking for in no way relates to me.

That is not true, we have much in common. What is your name?

I don’t have one.

I don’t have one either. That means we are already the same if anyone ever calls out to us, wouldn’t you agree? Just take that very simple idea and extrapolate it, so that it applies to everything we share: the same dreams, the same questions, the same essence. We are looking for something.

But the bridge will collapse once this is over, do you get it? That as soon as the question is answered, and you get what you are looking for, nothing will be maintained.

Then we share that in common, that we will both share the same fate.

Yes, but I will do it for the right reasons, and you will do it for no reason at all. You will be forgotten.

No, you will remember me even if you are not here, in that little glimpse when the bridge collapses, I will see it in your bright eyes, myself being reflected, and that is going to be me. That means that in the last moments of my life, even if I found nothing of what I was looking for, at least I was not alone.

A pure thought, too pure for this bridge, there you will collapse, because of the weight of your own delusion. But I am delusional too, strangely, though in a different way, so maybe I was wrong and you were right.

You will believe in me, then? You will show me what you have discovered.

There is no love in this bridge, and there is no life, but there is death at the end. Does that comfort you? Because the things you were looking for were discovered, and left tracks as we walked towards the end. The footprints behind, the time spent, not something physical, but something experienced.

And I will die like this, barely acknowledging this fact, with you by my side. Is that what you mean?

Yes, too late and too early, in both ways.

Beautiful, repulsive, unfair, pitiful. All at the same time.