House Alone: Shared Walls

The Wall Between Us I used to think a house was a place you kept the world out of.Four walls, a roof, a lock on the door, enough silence to hear your own thoughts echo. I built mine brick by brick, word by word, rule by rule. Each brick was a reason: This will protect me. This will make me good. This will keep the chaos out. I lived alone inside it for years.Not lonely, exactly.Just… alone.The way a single candle is alone in a cathedral, proud of its flame, unaware of the dark it can't reach. Then one morning the mortar cracked.Not with thunder. Not with drama.Just a hairline fracture, thin as breath, running from the floor to the ceiling of my mind. Through it came a sound I hadn't invited: Your voice. Your footsteps. Your life on the other side. I pressed my ear to the wall.I expected noise.I heard music. That was the first tremor.The second came when I realized the wall wasn't holding the world out;it was holding me in. This book is the story of what happened next.Not a demolition.A renovation.One brick removed at a time, by hand, by heart, by the slow courage of admitting: I don't need to live alone to be safe.I just need to stop building prisons out of protection. The walls are still here.But now they breathe.Now they carry light from your windows into mine.Now they hold up a roof we both stand under. Welcome to the house.The door was never locked.You just had to knock from the inside. The Wall Between Us I used to think a house was a place you kept the world out of.Four walls, a roof, a lock on the door, enough silence to hear your own thoughts echo. I built mine brick by brick, word by word, rule by rule. Each brick was a reason: This will protect me. This will make me good. This will keep the chaos out. I lived alone inside it for years.Not lonely, exactly.Just… alone.The way a single candle is alone in a cathedral, proud of its flame, unaware of the dark it can't reach. Then one morning the mortar cracked.Not with thunder. Not with drama.Just a hairline fracture, thin as breath, running from the floor to the ceiling of my mind. Through it came a sound I hadn't invited: Your voice. Your footsteps. Your life on the other side. I pressed my ear to the wall.I expected noise.I heard music. That was the first tremor.The second came when I realized the wall wasn't holding the world out;it was holding me in. This book is the story of what happened next.Not a demolition.A renovation.One brick removed at a time, by hand, by heart, by the slow courage of admitting: I don't need to live alone to be safe.I just need to stop building prisons out of protection. The walls are still here.But now they breathe.Now they carry light from your windows into mine.Now they hold up a roof we both stand under. Welcome to the house.The door was never locked.You just had to knock from the inside.