The Walls Around Me

The power had gone out in my apartment and I was left sitting in the dark, preserving my phone’s battery life in case the power took forever to come back on. My heart was racing. I was over analyzing every shadow, every creak, the howling wind, and every raindrop that slammed against my bedroom window. The thunder nearly scared the soul out of my body at least four times now. The last one was extremely close to causing an out of body experience. If I think about it too long I might believe I actually saw myself in the third person.

My stomach ached. I needed something to distract myself from my spiraling thoughts. I flew off my bed, and searched through my random piles of stuff. At times like these, I wished I was more organized. Lying underneath a shirt, that I swore was clean but definitely smells, was an old horror book I had been meaning to read. I grabbed my book light and pressed the button. It didn’t turn on. I pressed it again. Nothing. It was dead. It took me a minute to realize my breathing was getting heavier and heavier. Lightning struck, illuminating my room and leaving me in darkness once again. Thunder shook the world, hitting my already shaking heart. My vision blurred, transitioning into viewing in slow motion. My legs ran with pins and needles. I plopped myself onto my bed, and stared up at the ceiling trying to calm down.

There was a knock from the other side of the wall. Wait what? No. That was the thunder. But there was another knock. My body froze, forgetting all other panic.

“H-Hello?” I called out, almost choking on my saliva.

“Hello. I heard you panicking. Are you okay?” A young woman’s voice asked from behind the wall.

“Who are you?” I asked, slowly moving towards my wall.

“Your neighbor, um, Melanie,” The young woman replied.

“Oh okay. I didn’t realize the walls were so thin. I’ve never heard anyone else as clearly as I hear you here,” I said, sitting down on the floor and leaning my back against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asked again.

“Yeah. I guess being alone just kind of gets to me,” I answered.

“I was freaking out too actually. The thunder makes me feel like the whole world is collapsing around me and there’s nothing I can do about it, except die,” Melanie said.

“You know we are strangers right? That sounds like something a therapist should hear,” I said.

“I know, but how else can we become more than strangers if we aren’t honest?” Melanie replied.

“There’s a level of trust that needs to be established first. People aren’t nice, especially when you are vulnerable,” I said as lightning struck. I braced myself for the thunder. We were both quiet for a moment, holding our breaths for the world ending sound. It made me jump anyway.

“I’d rather be completely honest all the time, than study and wait forever deciding whether or not I can trust someone. And last I checked, people you trust are the ones who hurt you the most,” Melanie said, picking back up our conversation.

“Then you’ve clearly never been bullied for saying something personal to the wrong person,” I said, pressing my head against the wall.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Melanie said, softly.

“What? I- I never said that was my story,” I said, flustered.

“Then why’d you say it?” Melanie questioned.

“I- Ugh. Fine. Yeah, it was maybe slightly about me,” I said.

“Why does being vulnerable still scare you?” Melanie asked.

“Everyone is scared to be vulnerable. I think the better question is, why doesn’t vulnerability scare you?” I said, deflecting.

“It’s honest. Sure, it’s not always kind, but when it is, it’s beautiful. I think,” Melanie said. There was a tinge of restraint in her voice, like she was feeling emotional.

“You make it sound so easy, like there are more kind people than evil,” I said, feeling my chest tighten and the sting of tears welling in my eyes.

“It’s the hardest thing in the world, but it’s always worth it. I mean, look at us. Two strangers having a deep conversation,” Melanie said.

“I think it helps that I can’t see you. Like I’m talking to God or something,” I said.

“Can you tell me something honest? Why are you so afraid of being alone?” Melanie asked.

“I- I don’t know if I can. I don’t know who you are,” I said. The palms of my hands pooled in sweat. I rubbed them against my cotton pajama pants.

“Would it help you if I shared something first?”

“Maybe.”

“Alright. My biggest fear is dying alone. It was something I’ve been trying to figure out. Why do I need someone to be present when I die? I think that part of it is that I want to know that someone will remember me after I’m gone. But I’m not sure why that’s important. All I know is when the thunder claps, I’m reminded death is always near and I’m alone,” Melanie said, followed by a couple of soft sniffles.

“Wow. I feel the same way. I… I am terrified that I’ll die without someone carrying on my memory. My love life has been rough, none of them lasting longer than a month. Except for one. James. It lasted two years before I realized I never actually knew him, and secrets that I told him, would circle back to me as gossip. I broke up with him and vowed to never let anyone else fool me again. This is the first time in years that I’ve been completely honest,” I said as tears slipped from my eyes and snot filled my nose. I looked around my piles of stuff for some sort of tissue and found a wrinkled fast food napkin.

“I am so sorry for what opening up in the past has done to you, but I am happy you were able to share that with me. It’s important that your future relationships with lovers and friends are honest, and it starts with moments like this. Promise me you’ll do this more often?” Melanie said.

It took a moment for me to answer. Every weight I had piled onto my back was softly crumbling away, like it was never heavy to begin with. My heart remembered every heart break and betrayal, refusing to completely let go. Melanie was quiet, patiently waiting for my response.

“I promise,” I replied. I’m not sure why I agreed, but somehow it felt like the right decision.

As if on cue, the power returned. My bedroom light illuminated my messy room. I grabbed my phone from my bedside table, and checked the time. It was 2AM and I immediately felt the fatigue. I shut the light off and crawled into bed.

I woke up with the sun blinding me from my window before I had realized I had fallen asleep. I glanced over to the wall I was talking through. I wondered how she was doing.

“Melanie? Are you awake?” I said, leaning close to the wall.

There was no response. I didn’t want to try again in case she was sleeping, but part of me worried that I scared her away. I decided to wait. So, I got ready for work and headed out for the day.

When I returned, the door to Melanie’s apartment was wide open. I peered inside, and my heart dropped. The apartment was completely empty, void of all furniture and any sign of personal touch.

“Melanie?” I called out, as I entered the apartment. I couldn’t believe my eyes. How could this place be completely empty? Where was she?

“Excuse me?” My landlord called out from the entryway.

I swirled around, “What happened to Melanie?”

“Melanie? Who’s Melanie?” My landlord questioned.

“The young woman who was living here yesterday?” I said, confused.

“There’s no one living in this apartment. In fact, I was just about to show it to a young couple. So, if you don’t mind getting out of here, I’d appreciate it,” The landlord said, already over this conversation.

My heart was racing and my legs felt numb. Who was I talking to last night if no one lives here? I have to just get out of here. Pushing my body to move, I ran to my apartment.

I knocked on the wall and leaned in close. “Melanie?”

I waited for a long moment, but it was clear she wasn’t going to respond. Maybe I fell asleep sooner than I realized and it was all a bad dream. But, it felt so real. She had to have been a squatter. Yeah, that made the most sense. There’s no way she wasn’t real. Maybe she’ll come back tonight. I hoped I’d hear her voice again.

It was 9pm when I came back to the wall, hoping to hear Melanie’s voice and find out more about her. I crouched in front of the wall and knocked.

“Melanie. Please. Are you there?” I asked.

There was no response, so I knocked again. I called out her name and repeated my question. Again, there was no response. This is stupid. I shouldn’t care so much, but I don’t open up to many people. She felt important to me, even though we only had one late night conversation. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t hold back the emotions flooding my entire body transported around by my nervous system.

“Are you okay?” Melanie asked from behind the wall.

“Melanie! You’re back!” I exclaimed.

“It sounded like you needed me,” Melanie answered.

“Who are you? Really,” I asked, desperate for answers.

“I’m your friend,” Melanie said.

“My friend? I- I don’t hate the idea of us being friends, but I just met you last night and I have no idea who you are. You said you were my neighbor. You’re not. Are you some kind of squatter?” I asked, struggling to string my thoughts together.

“I didn’t want to scare you, but we’ve actually known each other for a long time. You just kind of built a wall around me and wanted to forget that I existed,” Melanie said.

“I don’t understand,” I said. My head ached.

“You don’t need those walls you’ve built for yourself. It’s okay. Everything is okay,” Melanie said.

“It’s not that easy. I- I- I- can’t let go of what’s protecting me,” I said, as my eyes burned from tears not yet released.

“Is it worth it if all you get in return is loneliness?” Melanie asked.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s scary not knowing how the other person will react to you being honest, I know. But, hasn’t being absolutely honest with me made you feel better? Holding yourself back from honest conversations will inevitably ruin any real connection with people, preventing you from ever feeling less alone. Please, take down your walls,” Melanie said.

“You’re right, Melanie. I hate feeling so alone. I just wanted to protect myself from getting hurt, but I’ll I’ve really done is make myself alone. I feel like I’m Rapunzel in a tower I made for myself. While expecting other people to climb my tower, without even giving them my hair,” I said.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Melanie said, softly.

I closed my eyes and imagined every wall I’ve ever placed softly crumbling to the ground. Layer by layer, I peel back every hurtful experience. I watched the concrete walls sparkle into atoms and disappear into the night. Once I reached the center, the very first wall I put up, I saw her standing there. Melanie looked a lot like me, except she had beautiful sparkles in her eyes, sparkles that had dimmed out a long time ago in mine. Seeing me put a smile on her face, and I realized I was smiling too. I walked up to her and hugged her tightly. Tears flowed from our eyes, but I have never felt happier. It wasn’t going to be easy living an honest life, but I know in the end I will always love myself unconditionally and other people will take it or leave it. I refuse to feel shame for feeling my feelings, and for being myself. Who else would I be if not myself, right? I will not allow myself to shrink ever again.