A Wall Around the Vulnerability
I live life on my own terms, where I don’t always have to decide what comes next. But as a human being, I know I have certain needs that I must fulfill simply to exist.
One step at a time. One magic word that I knew would always solve every urgency in my head, or whatever life would ever throw onto my little stage as a living creature. One brick built each time I managed to hold on and set it down with ease. Brick by brick, until I could finally see the entire wall.
I never understood where it came from, but people kept telling me that I always looked happy and at peace. As if chaos itself had never stood a chance of ruining what I had carefully kept inside. As if a disaster could never reach something they perceived as grounded and composed. But I wasn’t. I never was.
I could recognise chaos because I had been living in it for a while. I could recognise a storm in someone trying to bottle up their emotions, and I could recognise playful jokes in someone who was simply trying to feel something in their life.
I have a wall within me, too heavy and too high, that sometimes I can no longer see what life has to offer beyond it. Something inside me has always held me back, constantly reminding me to be careful, almost all the time. It keeps asking me, What if I get hurt if I’m too reckless with my life?
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So I decided to keep myself behind that wall, inside my own little box, where my two hands would only carry what I knew I could protect, just to prevent myself from getting hurt.
And in this room, I believe I have been keeping myself away from the possibility of letting myself be loved by someone. Or even allowing myself to get to know someone who shows an interest in me.
Perhaps it was the old version of me, still trying to protect myself from the familiar feelings of being abandoned. From being used. From trying too hard just to feel that I finally deserved to be loved.
I don’t want to live behind this wall forever. I know it was built to protect me. But every time someone tries to climb over it or get close enough to reach me, I always feel the urge to run. To escape before they get the chance to see what I have kept hidden behind those walls.
Because somewhere behind that wall, I still believe that people can leave me so easily.
Perhaps we always need to remember that the wall wasn’t built to imprison you. It was built to protect you. But eventually, the same protection became the thing keeping you from experiencing life.
