Have you ever been so lost within your own mind, trapped, confined within the walls of a fortress you built for yourself, designed to keep others out, but ultimately only holding you in? I don't know if there is such a person that could say "no". I've never known a life without such a feeling. But from deep within that fortress I write. I write the words I cannot speak. Like some prisoner held captive in a tower, isolated, I write all the words I wish I could say.
To the friend who seems to know me better than I know myself, I am sorry. I am sorry for the times I push you away. I am sorry for the moments when you feel like you don't know me at all. But the truth is you don't. You know one side of me. You know what I've let you see. And although that is much more than others have seen, it is still just a small fraction of the rooms in my castle. For some things, you've stood next to me, you've held me as I've cried. But there are times when I've stood alone and cried into my pillow. Those memories are buried deep within the dungeons of my mind. The doors are barred and locked and guarded, and I've tried to let you in! But you didn't know me then. I was not the same person. And although you want to see the memories and the pain, you don't want to see the person I was then... But the two are one. So I keep both hidden. You can dig and fight me on it, but you will either find nothing or you will find what you wanted entangled in the thing you feared most. And so I am sorry. I am sorry for the times when those memories escape, when the pain runs rampant, and when all I am to you is the person I once was. But more than that, I am sorry for the times I don't let you in, the times when I hide in the corner of my room and cower at each question you may ask. I am sorry, my friend.
To the sister who knew me once, thank you. Thank you for making mistakes. Your mistakes taught me. Your mistakes hurt me. But your mistakes built my palace. Brick by brick, they added to each wall. The boys who broke your heart built a wall keeping out men. The friends who walked away from you built a wall that would keep my friendships at the surface. The times you told me to go away or to stop talking built a wall between us. But the times we spent comforting one another made sure there was a window. You taught me to guard myself. And maybe I took it too far... But thank you, nonetheless.
To the parent who just doesn't understand, you did your best. You were busy, you couldn't have known. You couldn't see the grand construction. You couldn't perceive my inner workings. I shut you out and you didn't dig. The thickest wall I've ever built was against you. But you tried. And at times you've tried to ask, but the walls are just too strong. I can't get out and you can't get in... not yet.
To the person who feels the same way, bit by bit, you break these walls down. Like the Count of Monte Cristo, you dig your way to the surface. One day, you'll escape, every door will be opened, and the walls will be in ruins. But for now, it's a slow process. Carry on. You can make it.
