I was so proud of my wall. High, fortified, inpenetrable. It had required years of building, layer by layer, each centimeter the result of hurt and disappointment. And yet there you were, breaking down chunks of my wall, with me standing there, gawking in awe. Well actually no. You pried your way into my confidential documents with your charming diplomatic ways until I gave you a map to a secret passage. Because I didn’t feel like tearing down years of hard labour, and yet wanted to give you special privileges. Since apparently you knew a thing or two about how to build the finest intricate constructions, and we were both intrigued at each other’s end results. After awhile, you didn’t need the map anymore; you figured out the correct passage way, and if you wanted, you knew the way even in the dark. Or I’d hang up torches, since for some reason I longed to guide you.
You were more hesitant on becoming allies, so you only gave me some shreds of paper. But I told you I liked a challenge, so I spent hours at night, trying to solve the puzzle with the scraps you gave me. Unfortunately for you, I’m great at solving puzzles. When I seemed to be less of an enemy, I was sent a few more pieces, and I could slowly figure out the shape of your wall. You cautiously guarded the most vital parts close to you, but in my persistent ways I managed to wriggle them out of your hands. I found out you didn’t have a secret passage, but that there was a weakness in your construction: I could try and dig underneath your wall. Curious and persistent as I was, I took my shovel, and when the guards turned their backs, I started digging. But with every scoop of earth I removed, I became more of a threat to your closed-off kingdom. You realized you didn’t want me in your kingdom; you were even doubting whether you even wanted to continue our alliance. And so you ordered the construction of underground fortifications. I stubbornly pressed on with the digging, wounding my hands, arms, face with your spikes. My shovel broke. But still I continued, my hands doing the digging. When all of the sudden my fingers felt a hard surface. I was wrong. Your walls didn’t have a weakness: even from below they were impenetrable.
(Raw draft; work in progress.)