Bricks

I like bricks. In fact, I like bricks so much; I would love to be a brick. Think about it. Bricks are strong and sturdy and built to last. When you’re a brick, you don’t have to worry about anything besides doing your one job of just being there; because without you as a brick in that one spot on that wall, it would collapse. Sure, most walls are temporary and ought to collapse eventually.

You know what? I changed my mind. I don’t want to be just any brick. I want to be a brick in the wall of an old building; a historic landmark that can never be torn down. Then, as a brick, I wouldn’t have to worry about collapsing; about being torn down. I wouldn’t have to worry about being hurt every day. I wouldn’t have to worry about being crushed. I wouldn’t have to worry about having my dreams crushed. All I would do is sit in that one spot on that wall, as thousands of people came by, not worrying about me, being so confident that I can do what I am meant to do, I could sit and just support that wall. I would still be able to listen. I would still be able to feel. But I wouldn’t have to think about the other bricks and what they thought of me, because as bricks, each in our own one spot on that wall, we are dependent on each other till death do us part, or until a wrecking ball did us part. But in that one spot on that wall of that historic landmark, death never comes, and there is nothing regarding death to be afraid of. I would have nothing to be afraid of anymore. I want to be a brick, so that I can be me and I don’t have to be afraid about being me.

With thousands of people walking by while you’re sitting in that one spot on that wall of a historic landmark, there’s thousands of conversations to be had, and thousands of conversations to be heard. The great thing about being a brick is no one expects you to reply, or have an opinion, or care. You can just listen and feel. Every day, there’s at least one woman who walks into this historic landmark, right by your historic resting place, and she’s managing to keep three kids following the tour, all by herself. Her hair is just starting to grey, but she hides it so well, with some highlights and a carefully placed hat. Her face is frustrated and she looks stressed with the responsibility of having these three kids on her own, but she loves them more than anything, and she won’t let the fact that the father walked out on them stop her from loving her children. She doesn’t let history repeat itself, even though her father had walked out on their family, she still loves them. Her young, innocent children that deserve a loving family, a whole family, a family that loves and cares for each other, no matter what mistakes have been made.

As a brick, you are a part of that kind of family. You have all the other bricks cemented right next to you, and they trust you to do your job, as you trust them with theirs. They can’t leave you, but they don’t want to. Without you in their lives, they can’t remain upright. They can’t keep living normally. If you thought you were failing them, that you weren’t a good enough brick, that you could be the weak link that causes the wall to collapse, that the wall would be better off without you, that maybe you should just let yourself crumble with the pressure of the rest of the wall. Well, they’d be there for you. They’d still be supporting you, and trusting you, and depending on you to be the best brick that you can be. Nobody would blame you for being you, and if you needed extra support, they’d give to you, so you could be as great as all the other bricks. I am a brick. I am a strong, supported brick. But I am not part of a historic landmark. And so far, I have been built up only to be torn down.