Invading the Walls

I love historical fiction.

Knights in their beautiful armor on their stallions. Ladies in their ornamented dresses and their perfected etiquette.

But my favorite aspect of historical fiction has always been the moments when the castle is revealed.

Beautiful monuments built to house generations of families. Homes built for those who work and trade there. Gorgeous iron gates and strong tower walls.

The walls always get me. Built for protection. The barrier high. The strength set. A formidable foe to the enemy.

I laugh as I type this because my closest friends are probably sure of where this is going.

My walls. We all know I have them. But we all have them.

Most are built because we feel we need to protect ourselves. Because we have experienced great pain, disappointment or loss. Our walls hinder us though. While our walls seemingly keep us safe, they actually do the opposite.

Walls stop us dead in our tracks. We fill the moat with alligators, pull up the bridge, and secure the gates. Never allowing the possible in.

I have been doing this for years. Way too many. And to be honest, I am tired. Tired of defending the castle. I need a new army. Because love is not the enemy. Love is the greatest fortress. Built of compassion, care, and a strength never to be overtaken.

Romantic at heart, you may say. Yes, I am.

But I dream of a day of maybe. Maybe, just maybe, some day I will let drop the bridge, unlock the gates, and welcome the happiness and fulfillment I know will define my castle as the grandest structure ever built. Maybe, just maybe a knight will come and rescue me, taking me into a life I have only dreamed of. Maybe, just maybe, my walls will come crashing down.

Maybe, just maybe.

Because even after all the bullshit, I still believe in fairy tales.