The Crack in the Wall

Dear Delyara, I thought the wall I built was there to protect me. I spent years making it thicker, taller, colder. But today, a tiny green weed pushed its way through a crack in the stone. It didn't ask for permission; it just wanted the sun. I realized then that my wall wasn't a fortress; it was a coffin. I’m not tearing the whole thing down yet—that’s too scary—but I am widening the crack. I’m letting a little bit of the world back in.