What a fine bridge it was, thirty-three years in the making. It spanned an otherwise insurmountable chasm filled with water. Though never of the finest construct it managed to provide egress and ingress. To see it now, in ruins, having caught fire and burned, provides me utmost injury.
Over the years it took for you to build it, in an effort to distance yourself from me, I did manage to provide maintenance; I tried so hard to keep the avenue open. The span stretches so very long. As the length kept growing my ability to transport the needed materials to provide for its maintenance became a tiring task. How I managed to provide at least the minimal repairs, all without your help, for so many years seems now impossible.
Even while it burned, having been ignited by some misdirected fiery breath, I continued to hurry, I continued to carry materials and flame-retardant solution, in an effort to preserve the structure. You must understand, it was so long, it was thirty-three years in the making.
Whatever prompted you to begin such a project I am at a loss to discern. Was it something I said, did, or forgot? I cannot find anything so extreme in the past that would initiate such activity. Whether it be a misunderstanding or your extreme sensitivity I cannot know. Perhaps an ego had to do with it?
How you found so wide a chasm I cannot fathom. I begin to suspect that it was gouged out by hand as you made it longer, and longer. It seemed as if every time I crossed to inquire as to how you were faring I found yet another stretch had been added. As if the stretch itself, and the deepness to which it had been dug was not enough, I woke one day to observe that the bridge not only spanned the gorge, but deep waters also. One day I even noted that the vast waters had serpents added. One misstep guaranteed added injury and delayed repairs.
Now, with the bridge all but gone, its charred remains jutting only infrequently from the troubled waters, I stand staring across the chasm, this ocean, knowing you are over the horizon; I am unable to see your form. I am so tired. After thirty-three long years of providing the maintenance to see that the bridge remained open and now seeing it in its present form I do not possess the strength to rebuild it. That fortitude which kept the bridge at least passable in the past, is gone.
My only hope now is that you can swim the chasm or perhaps find the fortitude to rebuild the bridge yourself. At this point you will have to build the structure and maintain it. I am tired. If you decide to swim the chasm please use care. Among the serpents which are yours to command I have added some of my own.