Friday, February 27, 2009

Burn, Baby, Burn

I am not afraid to burn bridges. As a matter of fact, I kind of enjoy not only burning them, but dousing them in gasoline, shooting them with a flame thrower, and then dancing near the fiery fury.

Figuratively, folks. I'm no arsonist (at least, not that I'll admit to publicly).

It's just that I feel like if I'm done with somebody or something, why worry about severing ties? If I'm THAT over it, I don't WANT to be able to patch things up someday. Getting back into a bad situation is just poor judgment. So when I burn these bridges, I'm actually potentially doing my future self a favor. Makes sense, doesn't it? (Yes. It does.)

And it feels so damn good.

For example: I had a very, very bad boyfriend my Freshman year in college. I gave him chance after chance to straighten up, but he never learned. So when I decided I was done with him, I brought him lunch to work (filled with ExLax), waited until he got really sick and went home, then tipped off his parents that he was selling drugs out of their house. Mayhem (and police reports) ensued.

He didn't speak to me for a decade, but I really don't think I was missing out on all that much.

Anyway, blowing relationship ties into a million little pieces is on my mind today, and I'm working up a good plan to end a big one, once and for all. I'm only about 20 years overdue.

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