I didn’t notice the first bricks. They were moments of busy-ness. They were minutes of being unavailable. Some were kindness sent his way that went unnoticed. His requests still came in the sweetest way. I was happy to do a favor.
I was sure it was as he said, work getting in the way − family and pressing needs. I helped out all I could. He was sensitive to the behavior of others. I saw that. I found ways to make sure it wasn’t more. He always thanked me for watching his back.
Then three in a row happened, Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times he didn’t show up. Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times I was left to wonder. Slide the mortar; set the brick. Three times like in a fairy tale.
He had lived on the high ground. He had no room for less. He had no tolerance for those who didn’t. Yet the last time I heard him defend the folks he would have fought. And he didn't notice that he knocked me down in the process.
I thought fairy tales ended happily ever after, not with heroes who built walls.
−me strauss Letting me be