“Why are bridges always used as allegories?” Taylor asked.
We were standing on a small bridge walkway over the pond at the park as she seemed to pull this question out of nowhere.
“Well, it’s because bridges connect things, right?”
“Why are you asking me, Jacob? This question is for you.”
“Fine, then I stand by that statement. Bridges connect things. You can either cross a bridge to get over an obstacle, or you can burn a bridge to disconnect yourself from it.”
“That’s so sad, though. Why do singers always sing about burning bridges? Why don’t they sing about building new bridges instead?”
I put my finger to my chin in thought.
“If you think about it, that’s basically reality. The allegory of the bridge is a very accurate one, because to build a bridge, it takes time and effort, but to burn a bridge, you simply drop a match onto it.”
“You think people sing about burning bridges more because it’s easier to do than building them?”
“It’s true though, isn’t it? How much effort do you have to put into forming a relationship?”
“And to end one?”
“You say the word ‘goodbye.'”
Taylor frowned and looked down at the water.
“That’s just so sad.”
“That just brings up another point.”
Her gaze lifted off of the water and found my eyes.
“And what is that?”
“Maybe another reason people write songs about burning bridges is because sad or angry emotions put writers in moods more conducive to writing.”
“That’s still a little sad.”
“You asked me a question. You didn’t tell me to sugarcoat it.”
“I know. I just wish the answer wasn’t so melancholy.”
“Well, if you have any matches, might I suggest tossing them in the water?”
“So you can’t light this bridge on fire.”
Taylor laughed and shot me a smile.
“This bridge is made of steel.”