"The Cries Behind the Wall"

    For years, I kept my guard up too high that no one can reach. Surrounded by shredded glass and adorned by sharpened stalactites, no one has ever tried to climb the walls. Roofs were built with the most nonpermeable sheets, so even small oxygen gasps won’t be successful. Contrary to what others may think, what’s inside is not dead- it is alive. It just needs to be kept out from the sight of death. And so within fifty kilometers of circumference, every security aid is alerted by a loud sound of the gong coming from within. No one has dared to see it forefront. No one has a single view of what’s in its façade nor what is there to see after conquering those walls. No one was allowed-EXCEPT HIM.

    As the night falls, from within rang the loudest bangs of the gong I had ever heard ever since. Every cortisol and adrenaline rush to release pointed arrows toward a single invader of the land I only called mine. How outrageous that creature must be for breaking the silence within the walls! The cacophony of the gongs banging sideways, the repeated song notes of cicadas, and the roaring thunder of the conqueror’s footsteps, almost crushed what was left of peace within my ear. With that, I released every single arrow, bullet, and ammunition I have in my armory hoping he’ll be running away with his tail embracing his back frightened while carrying the fear of not trying his luck again behind the walls.  Guess, the magic doesn’t work for him. Instead, he had found my weapons’ weaknesses and tamed them like he was their master. Pinned on the walls, he was left walking freely along the trails while reciting a few idioms of love which seems to be dancing with every beat accompanying them. Without fear, he starts marching towards my door. I do not answer knocks but he has all the guts to just barge in. I do not typically have the pleasure to welcome a visitor yet he just finds the most comfortable seat inside and acted like it was his home. I should have been offended, but honestly, I loved the aura-the gangster vibes that he gives as if it’s telling me that he can trade the world for me.

    And I wasn’t wrong. Day by day, every honey-filled word coming out from his almost perfect lips became enough to lessen the distance between us. Similar to the prince and the fox, every rose he gives every day has made the bridge shorter and shorter. The walls slowly topple over revealing before my eyes the wonder of his arrival. Consciously but unintentionally, I begin enjoying his company and becoming oblivious to the principles I have stood for over the years. The gongs inside can no longer be heard. His presence must have silenced the war raging within this blood-pumping machine. My oxytocin level rises parallel to dopamine as our hands soon touch one another. The feeling-it was out of this world. With it comes the ineffable ideas and emotions that are too difficult to put into words. What matters most to me at that moment is having him inside the walls.

    So, I let him live inside. Every corner was opened for him to explore. Those dens I keep underneath were uncovered so he can have a full look over the place. The attics which I kept locked were then turned into a space where he and I can talk about random things without any restraints. The once dark and gloomy basement I have were lit so he can make his way down without getting stumbled by the scattered debris with every step. Even the dusty cellar at the ground zero, I have offered it with open arms and have allowed him to touch every charcoal and wine I stored inside.

    I thought this must be forever. Within the palisade, this extreme feeling of attachment, affection, and happiness, him and me was where I pictured my tomorrow. I have given every single thing in my basket to make him feel contented. I have molded myself into someone he would want just for him not to venture on other walls. I broke down the barrier so that I can sit beside him while watching every sunrise and sunset. I have shown every little thing within my yard. But I guess, satisfaction is just a fantasy. No day has passed that he was persistent on crossing that single line I have drawn between us. He’s dying to see the secret passage to my concealed little spot. But never will I make him take even a glimpse of the only place I tagged mine.  Unable to feed his curiosity, he then started taking the same tracks that he had courageously taken the first time he had a foot in there. That man walking away from me was the first creature to ever put so much effort just to know me. I would have shown him the way to the safe haven if only he is a little patient. Guess, time tests a man’s character.

    This hurts a lot more than one can ever think of. And his departure has left the gong angrily swaying back and forth again along the melancholic rhythm of the walls ascending from the distance as if roaring how stronger and deadlier it will be this time around.  As the agony ends, a sorrowful voice came rumbling, “Utinam Ne Illum Numquam Conspexissem”…if only I had never seen him…then I wouldn’t have known that happiness!