| wall (masculine noun) | /myr/
I had a revelation. After years of broken hearts and savage loneliness, I had resigned myself to living less precariously. I was angry and tired of surrendering myself to people who were as reckless with my heart as I was. These people didn’t deserve what I had to offer, and thus, following the advice of a friend, I began to distance myself from others. It went against everything I knew, and consequently, loved and hated about myself.
But my resolve melted as quickly as the snow.
I spent the weekend in Berlin with my boyfriend. We walked through ice, dodging freezing wind by plunging into warm cafes and cosy pubs. And below the surface of this new relationship, I was terrified. Despite everything I had said, was I actually ready to risk being brutally disappointed again? Despite my faith in human tenacity, was I sure I could survive? I asked myself in Mitte as we stumbled through the snow. I asked myself in Kreuzberg as we stood in line waiting for a kebab.
And on our last night there, we laid in bed. It was midnight, and we had to wake up in three hours to catch our flight home. We traded secrets. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. At once frightened and insecure-will you see me differently now? Am I any less beautiful?-I sighed deeply. As I began to speak, I felt myself liberated, sharing my most searing wounds. We were in Berlin, and I told myself, “Tear down this wall.”