He was like a home to her, where she hid herself from the world. In true homemaker style, she thought that she was building him up into a tower where she could always take refuge.
When there was a hole in the wall, she spoke to him about it, helping him understand that the breeze made her uncomfortable and made her feel exposed to outside pain. Sometimes he would argue, and say that the hole was not an issue; but eventually, he would always sit with her and cement it closed with love; and she would safely rest her head again.
Every time that she felt warm and safe, she started digging at herself; slowly breaking and building so that she could be a deserving part of the tower she called home.
He let her dig at herself over and over, he let her wonder about how she could be better for him. She soon started to realize, that she was the only one digging, the only one chipping away, the only one asking questions about renovations. See, he got too comfortable with only making changes here and there, enough to keep her feeling comfortable enough to still try to deserve him.
Until the day another breeze hit her skin, but this time it was because the wallpaper tore, on the wall he said was made of brick.
She stood shocked, staring at her safe lie; and her whole tower came crumbling down as she started tearing down the fake brick paper that she never thought to question.
Little did she know, she had been building him up to be a tower…to share.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Steinar Engeland on Unsplash
