The Wall

Stone. Bricks. Cement. All of these things can be used to make a wall, similar to the one I’ve surrounded my heart with for quite some time now. And you know what? That mortar is hard to bust through. This, my friends, is what I’m learning now. This stupid wall must come down.

I think back to when I decided to let my wall crumble and for once, completely trust a man. In all my serious relationships, the “wall” has been an issue. Men can sense it when you don’t open-up with them and in a woman’s defense, I must say, “Do you blame us?!”

Looking back on my decision to allow my wall to tumble in the past, I’m not sorry about the choice I made. No relationship can thrive if both parties aren’t completely open and honest. And, as hard as it was, I have to believe that Jesus intervened in order to keep me from irreparable heart damage.

However, I am sorry that, for some reasons unknown to me, things didn’t work out. And for this reason, my wall is back. How can I ever trust another man when I was so certain this one would never hurt me?

After each appendix-rupturing break-up, once I’ve regained the five pounds in water-weight (tears) I’ve lost, I eventually remember that I’m a strong woman. I get a new haircut (or color), buy some new clothes/shoes/jewelry/purses, and reinvent myself as a single, sophisticated woman. I vow that from here on out, I will take care of no one else but myself. I vow to put myself first and have tons of “me” time. I go out with my single girlfriends, but pay no mind to men because I despise humans who have facial hair/are male. I love myself and continue to do so, while subconsciously the little bricklayers in my head are slowly creating the Great Wall of China around my heart. No one’s gettin’ through that stuff.

Now usually, my wall is great, for it protects me from predators (i.e. loser guys). When a potential mate desires to break down my wall, I sense this and quickly apply any defense mechanism possible. I mean, after all, preparing for the worst means you’ll always be ready when it happens, right?

Wrong.

It’s not that I’m a Negative Nancy Emily. It’s just that... I’m scared. There, I said it. I build my wall because I’m tired of being screwed over by guys who know the right things to say and do, but instead of rocking my world, they shake it to the core and I end up slumped over my cell phone for hours on end, with my poor mother trying to decipher shards of my tear-infested speech. And let's not forget Sadie being extra cuddly and licking up some of my tears while resisting the very strong urge to rip off their balls.

Despite my “glass half empty” approach when it comes to men, I think I’ve finally convinced myself to allow my wall to tumble when my heart says it is time. I’m praying this stupid wall will no longer be an issue. I will gently let him (when he shows up, that is) tear down my walls – starting with the dry-wall first, of course. Am I frightened? Of course! I’m shaking in my flip flops!! But honestly, I’ve closed myself off from guys I’ve liked before and I think they can sense that.

In all honesty, the theoretical "he" should not be punished for the pain that other guys before him have caused me. You see, had I not been screwed over 100 times already, perhaps I wouldn’t be so cynical and jaded. And perhaps this wall of mine wouldn’t exist at all. I pray that God will explicitly show me when it’s time for me to let him remove the bricks that have accumulated from past relationships.

Perhaps someday I’ll be lucky enough to meet someone who can, once again, make me comfortable enough to bust out the bulldozer against the Great Wall of China that encircles my heart. I know I can’t remain closed-off forever. But for now, it’s my little safety net and my only hope is that for once, someone will catch me instead of letting me fall. Is that really too much to ask?

So, bulldozer, get ready. This girl’s wall is a comin’ down. Oh no.