I remember the first stone. It was on a sunny afternoon. A perfect day.
I helped you put it down because you didn't know the way.
Days, weeks, months and years passed, each with their own stones.
Small or big, colorful or pale, bright or plain, marble or concrete. It didn't matter.
Each time we saw each other our home grew larger and more splendid. When we forgot to add a stone, we made up for it by compromising and working twice as hard. Together
With love and kindness we transformed our little house into a castle with you as my princess.
But one day the tower of trust collapsed, damaging the garden of love on its way down.
We replaced the broken stones and rebuilt it. Slowly and carefully. Not wanting to make another mistake.
Months later the tower stood again. Crooked and with scars but proudly too.
We kept building and building, stone after stone, day and night. The castle became grander and warmer. Everything was good.
Or so I thought
You noticed some cracks but you never talked about it. You saw tiny fissures but you never talked about it. All could have been different but you never talked about it .
You teared open the fissures, and threw away our most cherished stones. For months you ignored and took away the stones I chose and stacked.
I caught you wrecking our work behind my back but then you left.
Here I stand now on the ruins of that magical place. All around me are piles of stones, each bearing a memory.
In the distance I see you building a new home, with someone else.
All I want is nothing more than hearing you knocking at my door.
I hear the stones longing to be stacked again. But can it really be rebuilt again?