When the Wall Walked Away
I met you in a season
when the sky felt wide enough to leap.
You smiled..
and I mistook the feeling for fate.
I crossed oceans in my chest,
moved countries in my bones,
thinking love was a bridge
you build once
and walk across together.
But you were measuring the wood,
tapping every nail,
testing the ground beneath my feet
as if I were a fault line
waiting to split.
Test after test...
questions wrapped in doubt,
silences shaped like verdicts.
I stood still,
hands open,
offering proof I did not owe.
At first, I called it caution.
Then healing.
Then patience.
And I let it be heavy.
I became your wall—
thick, steady, 'unmoving'.
You leaned.
You pushed.
You struck at shadows
that wore my name.
I took the lashing
for storms I did not summon,
for ghosts I did not create.
I told myself love
means holding the weight
until her hands stop shaking.
But somewhere between
your last accusation
and my last apology,
I disappeared.
You looked at me one day
like I was the fracture,
like I was the reason
the glass was already cracked
before I ever touched it.
And that was when I understood:
a wall can shelter,
but it cannot be loved
for standing still.
So I did the only thing
that did not require your permission.
I stepped away.
No speeches.
No final defense.
No more proving
what was never on trial.
Just silence
not bitter,
not loud
but the quiet of a man
who finally chose himself
after being strong
for too long...
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