Little Bear is often alone. He has some friends, but no one he has ever hung out with. He spends his time by himself or with his dad or his brother (when possible). He’s not a loner in a negative way, he is just alone. He always has been and it makes me sad. Soon, he’ll be 26 years old. He’s got a full time job, a lot of money in the bank, is frugal, reads, watches movies and whatever might be on youtube that tickles his fancy from cat videos to the evolution of traps and locking mechanisms. Our desktop computer has two profiles and on his there are many interesting things. I rarely look beyond photos, (he puts what he terms his best ones in a public folder) yet this was in a document called walls and it caught my eye and I opened it. I have no idea who wrote it, Little Bear could have (or Strider..). He’s a very good writer, but I don’t think he did. It fits him (and his older brother) exactly and this is why it breaks my mom heart. What did I do wrong? Is this fixable? I miss those little boys, am proud of my grown ones, yet how can they remove walls?
‘There once was a child born into the plains of life. He was happy and innocent. One day he looked up and saw a foundation around him, one brick high. He could see others around him outside the bricks. He could talk to them, but never let anyone in. Though some were closer than others, eventually they all left. For the wall had grown taller with the years. The boy started to become concerned because it grew harder and harder to see anyone on the other side. Eventually he would have to climb it just to see anyone at all, but always retreated back inside for he relished the safety of his enclosure. He came to realize as the years past what a problem this wall could be. The world told of all the great things one can do with the help of others (relationships). But the wall had grown too high; he climbed it daily and saw people go by. But no one stopped, for the wall was too formidable.
For years this became the routine, he began to lose sight of what the world was like outside. He found that he wanted to be with those outside his wall, but he did not know how to get past it. Still more years past and this boy grew to a man, and he ignored the wall’s inconvenience. He still climbed it daily, and wanted what was beyond it; his hope of ever crossing it dwindled. No one on the outside could see in to see if it was worth it to break through. Few stopped to take a second glance.
So now we are here. This man despairs because this wall is now his prison. He cries because he is lonely, but he laid the bricks himself. How could God have created a creature capable of love, but helpless to let himself find it? This wall has now become a fortress the sight of which strikes fear into all those who might glimpse its prisoner and wonder of his condition. What tools can tear down such a structure I do not know, for I did not know how it started, or under what circumstance it could end. Demons torment me that I have come to this place, and lick at the wounds that it leaves. Any dream of love is almost unbearable now, that anyone would desire the beast that now resides in this gulag. Most days I am numb to my situation, but some stab deep into despair. If I look to the future I see only this place. The desire to find another is still strong, but is countered by the shame that they must come here to find me. Even if there was someone who was capable of loving me, they would deserve someone without my faults which shackle this self –sentenced being. Someone that wonderful should not be wasted on me. Finding love is my most central desire and most over-reaching fear.‘