The Box


I made room for you. It was hard and it took a lot of effort. I dusted off the places I prayed hard I won’t have to revisit. I cleaned the walls and I brushed the floors. I wanted you to feel as welcomed as possible. I wanted you to stay. To feel at home and to never want to leave.

I made room for you. I painted the walls that dark shade of red you like. And I carefully chose the golden and white accessories to match. I bought a la z boy and the best music player I could find. I didn’t know if you’d like a playstation or an x-box more, so I bought both. I also know how much you liked privacy and your own time, so I bought you wireless headphones for when you want to disconnect. I made that room your own.

I made room for you. I put my heart into that room. And I gave you the lock and the key. It was your room. And I trusted you’d use it well.

The room grew and you build a home inside of me. Maybe you don’t know that now, maybe you never will. But I was home for you. A good one. Even after you’d left, I was good to you.

Eventually I had to bring the walls of that house down. Especially after you tried to burn it. Especially after you said how it wasn’t kind. Especially after you’d distorted any kind memories I had of this place. I had to box your belongings away. I put you, all of your things, and the broken pieces of yourself you’d left behind and were too scared to pick up, in a box. 

I boxed you away. 

And now I’m cleaning another room. One that’s untouched, and I will put my whole heart in it, hell, I will put my whole life in it, hopefully, for the one who stays. The one who will ask for the keys and the lock. The one who respects the effort I put into that room. The one who will build a home for himself inside of me and will earn each and every block.

The one who will one day, carry your box out and it won’t mean a thing. The one who is the reason why I’m smiling so hard writing this now just thinking about the possibilities. The one who won’t get away.