put on a happy face.

They have worked so hard to make me what I am today. I still remember the blazing sun burning their skin as they put me piece by piece, making me stand strong. Days passed and my existence became a slow progress. Every minute felt like it was being dragged into hours. Workers became sluggish; they didn’t have the glitter in their eyes as it did when they first decided to work on me. As time progressed, frustration was the only word I could come up with, following their actions. They began yelling, words flew like a dagger striking deep. It was then I realized that it was all because of me and never in my few months of existence had I wanted to be disassembled to take to pieces.

But they still worked on me, few months passed and I could finally see their eyes shine with pride as they looked at me like their precious possession. As the sun hit my polished skin, shining bright as ever, I hear them say that people don’t have to worry. I wondered what that meant. I didn’t have to ponder much on what it meant as people started walking on me. They were astounded by me. Their smooth fragile finger touched my ice cold skin and I could hear them say that I was strong and nothing could ever break me, some even called me beautiful. I stood stronger with pride if it was even possible.

And the day came when I was amazed to see something roll on me. It glided on me  smoothly as if butter had been applied on me. And as more cars started to move effortlessly on me, I thought to myself that I would never get tired of that feeling.

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Times were happy, I was happy to serve those beautiful people. I could see them getting back to their loved ones because of me. And I had never felt so useful.

The wind blew strong, rain poured hard, sun blazed but I stood strong. People started littering on me, dogs started pooping but I stood strong. It was funny to see people drunk and puking on me with their wobbly feet wanting to make it to the other end of me and I still stood strong.

Slowly my skin began to peel off, no longer shining, I could feel my back hurt as more vehicles passed through me but I was still happy because it was working out well with my people.  I was growing old but was still proud of myself.

Slowly I could feel my pride walking away from me as those vehicles refused to back out and made me watch them curse each other. It was endearing to watch them fiercely counteract wanting to reach their destination first and the irony to it was they were wasting time. What about the time being wasted of those who are patiently waiting for them to sort out their differences. I wonder if they had any emergencies to attend to.

All I ever wanted was to serve them, bring out those toothy grins. Now all I do is wait for the time where my back would give in and my old self will be replaced with someone wider, stronger, and shinier and people will take pride in calling it theirs. At the back of my mind I would always remember I would be taken away for good one day. Until then I will put on a happy face and stand a little stronger because that’s all a bridge can do.