The Modern Prometheus: Unbound

Of COURSE it was Howard Mackie.

More like, “Toho Condom” m’right?

Where does love turn into a cycle?  A task?  In the beginning it’s all hopefulness and sharing and acts of random caring that can’t be calculated.  A catching of eyes, a tinkling laugh that intoxicates, a sureness that this is the only thing that matters.  Riding that high, you climb mountains and forge forward holding that hand, knowing that as long as it’s there, nothing is too scary to handle.   Then; time.  Life happens.  Illnesses.  Setbacks.  Reversals of fortune.  Day to day struggles.  The eyes catch fewer times a day.  The laugh begins to sound a trifle forced, unsure.  Unsure.  Feelings turn into words not wanted to be said and not wanted to be heard.  But the words are said and the feelings are changed.  The days get longer and the divide wider.  The want to reach out, to bridge it, is there but the changes have brought new uncertainties; new fears and inaccessible places.  Now, there are two people living on opposite cliffs, half a bridge between them.  A bridge that flourished but is now in disrepair.  They both look out at that bridge and can see how they could fix a piece on their own  but know that it would take more than their two hands to square it.  But now that there is this gap, they can’t reach to help the other.  And when they both look back behind them, they can see so many other places to go and do and why sit here hammering away at this bridge?  Why did they care about that bridge?   Because it was beautiful and it belonged to them.   Don’t let your bridges collapse.  Go out every day and give them a thumbs up, toss them across some boards and nails, and both of you get to work.  Don’t resent it, get strong from it.  Trust me, hearing the ropes finally snap and the boards give and looking into their eyes as both of you and your bridge tumble into the divide is horrifying.