The Wall

She told herself, she wouldn’t feel again. Not after the last time. She promised to stay guarded to protect her heart at all costs. No more falling. But then, he came. And he looked at her like she mattered. And just like that, her walls began to fall. She let herself believe, maybe, maybe this time was different. She saw something in his eyes, something soft, something that felt like home. She pushed aside the doubt, made excuses for the silence, covered every crack with hope. But in the end, it still wasn’t enough. He left. Quietly. In the middle of the night. She cried, not just for him, but for every piece of herself that still believed she could be loved just as she was. She blamed her flaws, every scar, every soft, messy part of her that didn’t fit someone else's version of love. So she picked up the piece and started building again. That Wall. The one she always rebuilds when love walks away. The one that never quite stands tall, but still feels safer than falling.