It felt like a wall caving in. Or at least what I imagined a wall feels like when it caves in. It’s a shattering of its ego. The sole purpose it has is to stand strong and prevent whatever it is that wishes to enter. Then, suddenly, a sledgehammer hits directly in the middle of it and slowly pounds away its strength. Once the sledge hammer, which as a result has a boost in it’s own ego, completes the job, the wall no longer exists. Its existence lays in fragmented pieces spread through out the ground that it once use to stand over.
That is the only metaphor that can represent the feeling that is occurring right now. It’s a moment where an unintentional sledgehammer has repeatedly hit me. Slowly the pieces are starting to scatter on the floor. In all honesty, it’s more like a wrecking ball, it only took one swift motion. It wound up and then gracefully came crashing down. It barely received any resistance in its motion. This wall that I had built over the years came crumbling down in an instant. The reason the motion felt slow was the five year daze.
The result was vulnerability. Over the years the wall was impenetrable. It protected me from everything. I never had to deal with the emotions that were buried and hidden behind it. They would occur and then pass through the gate and quickly be forgotten. The arrangement was purposeful. It allowed me to continue through life with out a care in the world.
Like a wall that is subject to its environment, my wall was too. It would expand and contract due to moisture. The moisture of my environment was self-imposed. I would intake alcohol and the wall would either expand or contract. The expansion would cause a belligerent state. Taking all the frustration and anger that was hidden behind the wall out into the world. The contraction consisted of depression and regrets. The drink would withdraw me from the outside and have me harp on certain events. The only protection that prevented the breach was the total consumption. I would drink enough to black out and deal with the issues only during the present. After the eventual passing out I would come to in the morning not being aware of what I dealt with the night before. The system worked. It was not perfect. It was what allowed me to not deal with life.
The wrecking ball was self-imposed – like most things. It was to share, or more appropriately build the wall for two. I took on a resident. It was the work closer to termites at first. They crept into the wall. They ate just underneath the surface to leave the façade of the wall untouched. Taking a little dust at a time. Until eventually the wall was simply an empty shell pretending to be impenetrable. The false sense of security was just that.
The wrecking ball occurred when I mouthed only three words. I love you. It was a self-destruction of the wall. It took the hollowed out wall and got rid of it. I said I love you to her and gave her the hidden gems that were buried inside of me. In retrospect, I needed it more than I cared to admit. The wall had been stretched to far.
“I love you.” I wasn’t seeking a response to her. It was three simple words I wanted to share to her. The words meant that my wall is down. I trust you. I am yours. It only occurred once and the rebuilding of the wall is still under construction.