“For them, loving you will be like walking into a construction zone: messy and just a little bit dangerous. But it all will come with the promise of tearing down old walls to make room for something open and stable.
They won’t promise that they’ll be able to hit some magic switch and all of a sudden, they’ll act differently than they always have. To say so would be a lie, and both of you know it. It’s going to take some time. Walls are a stubborn sort of architecture, and they won’t come down without a fight. Just know that the first few nights you spend together, they really will want to cuddle up close to you and burrow themselves in your arms. They’ll want to, more than anything. But they also won’t want to seem needy. They’ll sleep with their backs to you, and they’ll pray that you’ll be more courageous than they are. They’ll sleep with crossed fingers and an anxious heartbeat, hoping that eventually you’ll pull them back to you and you’ll show them that it’s okay to be endearing.”
Loving someone who has walls up is not a careless decision. It takes a conscious commitment to assign yourself as the one to take the first strike at the concrete surrounding their heart. These are people who have painted over their fragile skin with instant-ready cement, blocking out the feel of fingerprints and the echo of empty promises. They tell themselves that all the little nuances that make them secret romantics have to stay hidden away.
But despite it all — despite the walls and the “do not enter” sign they hang around their neck — you might just fall for them. And in some miracle of ways, they might fall for you, too.
For them, loving you will be like walking into a construction zone: messy and just a little bit dangerous. But it all will come with the promise of tearing down old walls to make room for…
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