That's a lyric from the song Beneath Your Beautiful... I'm listening to a cover of it right now as I'm writing this to you. And sadly, honestly, it's true for many of us. We start by building a ledge, but then we carry on laying more and more bricks... till it becomes a wall.
I think you're probably the one in my life that could really understand when I say that I find walls comforting. Not in the I-feel-sorry-for-myself-I-want-to-get-away-from-everyone kind of way, but there is just a sense of peace that I find in being behind a wall. With you, of course, it's different. But most of the time, I have a wall. Sometimes, I'm a wall.
Ever since I shared with Amy about Papa, I've felt like that wall has been slowly stripped down. Of course, I will always find a reason to lay another brick on -- but at the same time, sharing these things with Amy, and you, too, I felt more human. I had never told anyone about his illness... because it never was something I felt affected me that much. I saw him, not his sickness. But through Amy, and also talking to Kung Kung and you, I learned that all the normal that I dealt with, was, in actual fact, not normal. It wasn't my responsibility, it was their issue. Not mine. Till now, though, I have to say I'm finding it hard to grasp that concept. I know it's there, but... it's hard to grasp.
No, I don't think my wall is completely gone. In fact, it's not necessarily stripped down... but learning to let someone in behind my wall, is probably something I will take from 2013 with a smile.