Bricks

Rolling around awake last night ... each hour asleep felt like 4 hours ... so that made the night go by even slower every time I woke up and saw that only an hour had passed and I still had to make it through the next 5 hours.

And the dream I had didn't help. It continued through each segment of sleep I had. And each time I woke up relieved to think the dream was finally over and I could erase the bothersome feelings ... nope ... it continued right where it stopped.

So I'm in a mood. The kind of mood that makes you wish it'd just rain ... cold, sad rain on a cold, sad night. Not a pouring rain. A constant almost mist-like rain that carries a feeling of melancholy with it. The kind that exasperates you because it's not just sprinkling ... and it's not pouring either to satisfy the beast inside waiting to be unleashed into the wild emotions. 

Walls.

Walls are so frustrating. I effing hate walls. 

But I'm pretty good at building them. Aren't we all? 

At the end of an argument, when you've hit a fork in the blame game, the conclusion is that you're selfish. That's.just.awesome. Another brick on the wall.

When you can't find the right words to say  ... or enough confidence to say what you feel ... or are afraid you'll be misunderstood through the jumbled thoughts that make sense to you but never had to others ... you surrender yourself to the always-growing confirmation that no one "gets" you. Another brick on the wall. 

Then there are the times when you're feeling too sensitive not to offend others when all they needed was your honesty. Your brutal honesty. The kind that momentarily infringes on their cockiness and angers them ... because they thought they were better than that ... then after some reflection - if your relationship is based on truth and honesty - the anger subsides into a soothing realization that your words aren't to tear down but to bring awareness and build up and make better. Transform them into the better version of themselves 5 minutes ago. 

But when things don't turn out that way and they turn you away instead, another brick on the wall.

And touching. A touch that goes beyond a passing gesture ... that comes with it the kind of warmth that allows the other person's soul to penetrate your tough exterior to calm you through a hug. Hand holding. An arm around your shoulders. A beautiful touch ... like that of a child holding on to her parent's finger that speaks of guidance. Trust. Protection. Love. A transfusion of love from one to the other. 

But when touch is empty - or lacking altogether - another brick on the wall.

So many bricks, until we're standing inside a tower of our own making ... feeling scared, yet strong and protected inside ... looking out at the world, taunting almost to no one who really cares, convinced that our walls are tough ... and unbreakable.

And there we are. So many of us ... building walls ... hiding behind walls ... peering through tower windows just long enough - far enough - to see faces come and go, while life inside gets colder in its separation and loneliness.

So I'm in a mood tonight. I've been in my tower all day, pushing against the world ... digging around for another brick to add to the wall. Sinking into emotional songs that make me feel the same frustrating yet satisfyingly good sadness that rain does.

All because of some stupid dream that should have broken my heart but didn't - and only awakened my instincts to protect myself even more. But really ... I wish I was strong enough to tear my walls down.