"It is not what they built. It is what they knocked down. It is not the houses. It's the spaces between the houses. It's not the streets that exist. It is the street that no longer exists." -James Fenton
I will readily admit I've participated in the metaphorical burning of bridges and I'm totally and completely comfortable with those decisions. As I grew into the adult world I was confused about what a good influence was to my person for the longest. As an adult, it took some time, minus "the tragedy" as that halted all emotional and social growth, to find the most prized individuals that mesh with my path as well as solidifying the relationships of those already established. If it weren't for the newly opened space and land in my life I may not have felt confident enough to morph into the being I am now, which I'm pretty okay with, who is consistently satisfied, happy and looking forward with little anxiety and looking back with little remorse or sadness. If I hadn't burned those bridges it may have inhibited the growth that allowed this truly magnificent realm of people that occupy my day to day. And for them I am grateful.
For the destruction, I am grateful. For the space to rebuild, I am grateful.