One of the longest relationships I’ve been in spanned five years but that’s not to say it was a five-year relationship; and that’s certainly not to say that time = healthy. It was clear that resentment had grown abundant after the first year or two, the invasive species of the mind, but still we persevered because we had (admittedly just barely) maintained enough resilience to sustain the shell of commitment. We were both proud people, certainly to proud to admit to any shortcomings of and in ourselves although, unsurprisingly, we were fantastic at noticing them in each other. We often buried those feelings, planting the seeds of resentment to ensure our fragile system stood another day. But having to constantly upkeep a system isn’t really sustainability which was proven whenever a disturbance swept through our delicate ecosystem, all the buried resentment that should have been dealt with only fueled the flames to inextinguishable heights. Without having dealt with those smaller disturbances when they arose, we chose to suppress them to maintain the illusion of integrity so that other people who didn’t understand the underlying mechanisms of our relationship could look at us and confidently say “yup, that is one healthy and intact system” not realizing that our relationship, our ecosystem, had been carefully manicured and upkept for appearances. It may have looked beautiful and healthy but beneath the surface, under the treeline, years of detrimental fuel had accumulated, suppressed feelings and layers of emotional biomass lingered so that when an inevitable disturbance did occur, whether fire or fury, it brought down with it the entire structure.

We would take some time to cool off, let the smouldering settle and the smoky skies clear. Although by the time we were ready to heal our wounds, to allow the succession process to begin, all of those nasty and permanently scarring thoughts had been unleashed unto the foundation of our relationship. The invasive species had spread and plagued the landscape. The relationship we once had had been too damaged to ever return to its original state and so we had to adapt. Resentment said aloud can never be taken back; it doesn’t evaporate, it spreads through the land changing primary functions and messes with all sorts of processes that once worked well while forcing other species and feelings to compete futilely. And while it is true that once the new landscape had adapted, born out of the ashes of the last, it could develop a new plateau of sustainability although one that paled in comparison to the intricate and complex system that had once been. Walking through this new landscape felt bare, a remnant of something I once loved. Others saw it now as well, the façade now obliterated, every bit of damage done now clear as day.

“How could that happen, they seemed to complete each other so well” some say.

“It was too good to ever last” says others.

I admire forests whose guardians allow controlled burns because, as I had failed to see prior, it’s done out of respect. It’s important to let off steam once in a while in a contained, non-destructive and careful manner mutually benefiting both parties and ensuring longevity. Your eyes are probably sore by now from rolling them over and over at my blatant and over-arching metaphor so I’ll wrap it up. Just as those before me and those to come, we’re likely to burn through many more lands before we figure out what it takes to make something last. Some have figured it out, others (myself included) not so much but every attempt teaches us new things as we ourselves grow, one of these things is that unless you’re willing to work for something, you can’t expect it work for you. Whether I have the maturity to apply that knowledge remains uncertain.