The Wall.

He told himself he wouldn’t feel again. Not after the last time. He promised to stay guarded to keep his heart locked behind thick skin and silence. But then, she came. And she looked at him like he was worth something. And just like that, his walls began to fall and He let himself believe maybe, maybe this time was different. He saw something in her smile, in the way she listened, like she really saw him, not just the mask, but the man underneath. He ignored the red flags, made excuses for the distance, told himself to be patient, to hold on. But in the end it still wasn’t enough. She left. No big scene. Just… disappeared. And he broke, not loudly, but in the quiet, behind closed doors where no one could see the weight of not being chosen. He questioned himself, every flaw, every soft part of him he tried so hard to protect. So he started rebuilding. That wall. The one he always goes back to when love feels like loss. The one that doesn’t stand tall but still feels safer than falling.