121. He Had A Plan

He had a plan an idiot idea he built himself a house felt he knew what was best for him even if it didn’t go right Every brick was a memory mortared together by his tears every window a childhood nightmare the tiles he formed of arguments past the door was made from many breakups the foundations built from his mistrust He finished the house by his own hand but found he could not live comfortably trapped within his own recollections his home became his prison Thought he could not go on alone felt closer to ending himself cried himself to sleep every night which only made the walls grow thicker Until at last a friendly voice came and battered down the door shattered the tiles and bricks and blew the windows to dust destroying his lonely prison Five years later and free from his old cell he feels much better about all has built a mansion for himself and his new family to live in He had a great plan an idiot idea he built himself a house all that remains now is dust and soil in the garden of his new family home