I’m good at being alone

I’m good at being alone.

Really good, actually.

A past relationship in my life rocked me. I didn’t speak about it for a long time for a few reasons. But it is distilled down to two reasons: (1) I was ashamed that I became a statistic. (2) Because I was afraid of him and promised him my silence.

I built walls up.

And even when it became safe, I didn’t tear those walls down.

Instead, I fortified those walls.

Damned like Sisyphus.

Over……. and over……… and over……. and over……

I became extremely independent (one might say fiercely so). I got better at being alone. In the safety behind my walls, I built myself back up again. I got really good at being alone. Trusting in only myself and a very close knit circle.

And then more than a decade later, I find myself pondering why I have never been in romantic love… and I came to the realization of what I have done. A harsh truth

I trapped myself within these strong walls. Proverbially painting myself into a corner.

These walls won’t come down overnight. And perhaps these walls don’t even need to come down?

Could it be that my heart has outgrown this place and is ready for new foundations to build something bigger? Something better?

It feels like the universe is offering an open hand and I think I’m ready to allow myself (my heart) to be extricated somewhere else.

A new fertile ground to grow.

Meanwhile, the old fortified walls will decay and crumble with neglect.

Because I don’t live there anymore.

*cue Carrie Bradshaw