Vulnerable.

What makes you so different?
Cuz you see, I've placed walls that are stacked so high, no one was suppose to see the very top of it.
Not even if you stand right under it and not even if you stood three hundred kilometers away from it.
It's stacked so high that if I made these imaginary walls into something that reality can see...
It would climb higher than the skies could reach, higher than any satellite orbiting the sky, higher than logically possible.
That it would not only disrupt the orbit of Mars, but get past the asteroid belt, hit Jupiter, break off Saturn's rings, fix the spin of Uranus, and hit the blue mass that we call Neptune.
And it wouldn't stop there.
It'd leave our solar system and fuck up the near by system's rotating orbit.
It's built so high that it would reach the end of the universe.
And that's said with the theory that the universe has no end.
But not only did it hit the wall of the universe, but it broke through and who knows what the fuck is outside the universe.
And if it found itself an entrance to a black hole... it would've found the exit.
I know it's not logical, fuck you science. It's called a metaphor.
You could try and dig under, but these walls are dug in deep.
Dug in so deep that I don't even recall when they were being constructed.
Or how deep the hole was when construction was happening.
These walls are so thick that no atomic bomb could be strong enough to decimate it.
So thick that if you used a drill to try and get through to me, you'd have better luck trying to break out from Alcatraz by digging your way out...with a toothpick.
The distance between the outside wall and where I am is so wide that it would be faster if you circled the earth...as a paraplegic... without your wheelchair... terminally ill with lung cancer.
It's the ultimate defense.
So what makes you so different?
You're different because... in my mind, where these walls exist, where I'm in a room where no one has ever stepped foot before... not my family, not my exes, not any of my friends have seen the inside of this room...
But in my mind... you're there... with me.
Telling me that I'm okay, pulling me away from these shackles that we call insecurity.
And I'm amazed that she did not find a monster inside the room, but a friend.
A friend who has been inside that isolation unit for so long, with his insecurity his only company... He's clung onto her, he's become attached.
But that doesn't erase what his past has put him through.
He's scared, he's... anxious. He's unsure.
Making another mistake is something that will definitely close that gap that she managed to find. Because my walls are unbreachable.
Somehow, you've given me the atmosphere that I use to be all too familiar with.
I let my guard down.
You slipped right past that wall.
And if my past came back to haunt me with this new and yet too familiar situation...
I'd blame myself.
For letting my guard down.
I hope you understand the risk I'm taking here...for you.
So what makes you different?
What makes you so different from the others that I've let my guard down in front of?
What differentiates you from the ones that slipped past my defence and stabbed the monster inside?
What makes it different is that I wanted to let my guard down.
Because I'm sick of putting up these walls, just to avoid the hurt, the pain, the emotional tail that follows friendships.
Because, to be honest, I thought you were cute but I didn't let my walls see through just because of that.
Nor does it revolve around that reason.
Because something inside me told me to let you into who I really am.
Because something about you has brought back who I use to be, with a hint of how I am now.
Because for the first time in years, I've let someone know who I am, on the inside.
Something about you made me feel...safe.
I let my guard down, and I'm slowly coming out of my shell.
I feel vulnerable around you.
I feel attached.
I hate it.
But my hate for feeling vulnerable is nothing compared to the smile that I hide from you when I'm around you.
And I hope that feeling never becomes different.