The story of my wall

I have had my wall around me for a long long time. Not sure when it came to be or how it came about, but somehow it got there. Maybe it was even more of a conscious decision than anything else, maybe one day I woke up and built it to protect myself? Whatever it is, me and my wall go way back.

Then a boy came along who didn't like wall, who fought with me to destroy the wall. At first I resisted, I fought back as I had always done before. But he was persistent and wouldn't give up. Plus he was so tall that he could see inside the wall anyways so it didn't matter. So I loosened up a bit, and I let go. Not sure if I got rid of the wall completely. In fact, I know I didn't. I think I just let him stand by the wall and hold my hand. Sometimes, I would even invite him inside for tea. Inside the wall, there isn't enough room two people. So that wouldn't work out well.

Then after a while I found out, to my surprise, that he had his own wall made out of a different material though. Mine is some kind of brick or stone, the kind that they used to make prisons out of. His is wood, really, like a cabin. He only goes in there once in a while to rest, to rejuvenate, to retreat. I, on the other hand, I live inside my brick wall permanently. I am so comfortable, so safe and secure. Nothing gets to me when I am inside there.

Everyone knows about my wall. My family, all my friends, everyone I have tried to be intimate with in the past. But no one was able to break in until he came along.

And now...I am fine, I am back inside my wall again, feeling all cozy and comfortable and safe again. Protected. The only difference is that at least sometimes I have the courage to hold my head out and take a peek outside the wall, and imagine the possibility that one day, maybe one day, I can destroy the wall myself, with my own two hands.