If I could go back in time, back to another world so different to the one I grew up in,
I’d find that scared little boy, hiding under the bed, alone and blaming himself for his situation
I would hold his hand
Tell him he was brilliant, loved and worthy,
I’d kiss his cheeks everyday and give him the biggest cuddles
I’d listen to all his wild, wondrous thoughts and tales of adventure, before his eyes shut
Because for some reason that brown eyed, dark haired child thought it was his fault he cried alone,
Blamed himself for feeling as if no one in the world could stop the tears falling,
and that he deserved the hurt he felt as he closed his eyes,
So he reached a point where he stopped crying
Stopped believing he was worthy of love
Stopped letting anyone in,
He built walls, brick by brick
Until he realised walls were only safe if they connected on each side,
Isolating him further
He kept building, placing those bricks until he made a fortress
Each time someone hurt him or he placed too much faith in the wrong idea or belief
He added further defences,
First a moat, with a drawbridge so he could choose when to wander in and out of his safe, protected world
He hid himself away from affection
Put scouts atop the fortress, on the lookout for anyone trying to breach the walls,
Whether by scaling them or blowing holes into the bricks,
attempting to dismantle the barricade to his heart
He worked so hard on making the rest of his land appealing,
Onlookers often passed by, mesmerized by the whole picture,
Wondering what it would be like to venture closer
And through the years, as he got more comfortable within the security and defence mechanisms he’d put in place
He decided to venture out of his castle, through the palace grounds, across the drawbridge to take in others humble abodes, others castles, whimsical tree houses and cottages alike,
But he’d never invite them back to his
Though sometimes he was tempted to let the drawbridge down,
Until one day he let the wrong person inside, gave them the royal tour
Only to realize they never really cared for castles,
They didn’t want to stay
Just to visit and then leave without word or warning,
Only to find solace in another within months of blowing a massive hole into his castle
He didn’t let anyone in again
Because that hole, it opened up directly into that room
The room with the bed
and the crying child thinking he deserved to feel pain, loneliness and heart break
Rather than working with that child, and those childish beliefs not rooted in any truth,
He took them to heart
He decided to prove that child right,
He pretended to let some in, only for them to find his dungeon.
To find a part of him, but just the cold, dark spaces that no one belonged in
He didn’t take pleasure in hurting them,
In the pain and torment he caused
But part of him felt justified
He wanted to nail their broken and desiccated hearts at the front of his castle,
To serve as a warning to any who ventured to close to his,
“Look at the monster I am, look at the chaos I cause, I am not worthy of love”
Because if this was true,
Then the little boy was right
and that’s the part that breaks my heart the most
but it’s not my place to cross your moat,
scale the walls and dismantle your fortress
brick by brick,
Instead, I’ll just let you enter my cottage – make a mess of everything before the cold,
inevitable end occurs and our inner children are satisfied that they were right all along;
because I was once a little girl
crying in her bed, under the blankets,
telling herself no one could ever love her, because her own mother didn’t
telling herself everyone would leave
just like her mother did
and in a bid to get people to stay
I opened up my cottage
I tried to make things as comfortable as possible for everyone who visited
I tried to fix even the smallest issues, in a hope that I could make them stay
Tried to mold my cottage into a palace, something more akin to a sacred fortress these visitors were used to
I thought there was something wrong with the little cottage I offered
that if I could just make it perfect for the right person, it’d be enough for them to stay
but here’s the thing about men who build castles, forts and moats
they are not the same men that want to tear them down
they’ll never be comfortable with the thought of trading that life in the hope that humble cottage in the meadows will suffice
they want to explore, and roam freely
and know that at the end of the day, they have somewhere safe and secure to return to
a fortress protecting their most precious asset
and the guest book in my cottage gets a bit bigger,
another check out,
another empty bed
another day wondering what I did wrong, and why no one will ever stay
and that little girl,
crying under the covers,
green eyes reddened,
feels justified in believing she’ll never be loved
because everyone returns to their castles
and she’s left with a leaky, broken cottage never good enough for more than a few nights stay
one day, when you leave your name in my guest book and take my heart to pin on your castle walls
the little boy will say, I told you I’m a monster not deserving of love
and the little girl will say, I told you no one would ever stay
