For 3 weeks, I experienced intermittent pain, more of a tug on my heart strings, when I looked at the Brooklyn Bridge. Silly, yes. Logical, no. I was instantaneously taken back to a magical moment, merely weeks ago, when I walked the bridge with him. Suddenly, this beautiful structure, no longer represented just that. Working in downtown Manhattan, I couldn't help but see it every day.
Yesterday, a friend told me just how insane it was of me to think this way. He said, I needed to "replace the memory." So, he dragged me across it. I never envisioned it to be a traumatic experience, with me, breaking down mid walk, kicking my legs and screaming. But, I envisioned it to sting. We laughed and chatted on my second walk across the bridge. We made light of it. We joked. We kidded around about the last time I had experienced the Brooklyn Bridge. It was easier than I anticipated. I made it out alive, feeling some sort of accomplishment. I could no longer associate the Brooklyn Bridge experience with "him." I could no longer reminisce about the "last time" I walked across the Bridge, as I had replaced the memory with a different one.
At one point, we stopped and looked down at the South St. Seaport, very much like he and I had. I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. I looked down to a place I believed I had "fallen" for this guy, in better times. I paused for a moment and realized that I couldn't be a 'prisoner' to these memories anymore. It made no sense. Yes, he hurt me. But, what sense was it to walk around with a heavy heart, avoiding beautiful structures like the Brooklyn Bridge and South St. Seaport, simply because I associated those places with him? I looked down and swore it was time to let it all go....
Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be. - Anonymous.
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