If These Walls Could Talk …

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Apartment 3w: What would those walls say?


Funny the way it is … the girls that moved into this unit nearly a year ago are nowhere to be found. There were three of them; all different girls seeking some fit within this bustling city. They were quick to socialize, slow to budget, irrational to find love yet completely rational in establishing love for one another.


Decorating was the most painful part for me. No matter how many times I said, “that nail will not fit there” they were determined like a boxer in a ring to hang that curtain above that mirror. I have the scars to prove it. They plastered unforgettable nights all over the wall. These photos serve as unforgettable memories of the best times of their lives. Within those frames are memories that contain skipping lines at bars, grabbing tables by fudging the truth, establishing names for themselves within Chicago’s social scene, girls’ nights out enjoying sushi that they chose to spend money on, because buying new underwear isn’t nearly as fun as eating sushi and watching a mambo dancer perform. Not nearly. They’d introduce one another to new friends and expand their list of friends. Some of those people came and some left. Some of those people stuck around and melded into a group of “regulars.”  And there was the holiday housewarming … oh the holiday housewarming. The pink Christmas tree for Zoë, the little Pomeranian who was quick to make herself at home with the loves of her life, her aunties.


I’ve seen heartbreak and pain but it’s never gone unshared. Hugs are given and empathetic tears are shed in return. Generally, these sessions where the heart seems to overflow with emotion end in laughter. All three girls love to see one another smile and laugh. It warms their hearts. I’ve seen happiness and joy beaming from their eyes. Those emotions are best expressed with a celebratory night out. And if it was a rough night, the girls might trek to McDonalds for a greasy breakfast. Or if they felt up to it, they might end up drinking mimosas at lox bar. The three of them craved girl-time. Their dinners out and nights out were spent on the brink of extravagance but not one of them would tell you she’d think about taking it back. They’d talk of it the next day after work over a glass of (affordable and preferably red) wine; the sun was setting perfectly in the “vials” and the meal was delicious.


Each would ease the others’ fluttery heart before she went on a date. Closets were rummaged through and jewelry drawers were perused on occasions like this. Try this shoe … no, that one. No, this one. The girls could make up their mind on what they’d do if they could afford a vacation (South beach anyone? skiing, Dee?) but the shoes always proposed a challenge.


Time would go on and their trust and confidence in each other would grow beautifully. One’s heart would break simply because the other’s heart wasn’t in perfect form and vice versa. Each was concerned with whatever might be posing a possible “stunt in growth” to the others’ well-being. A trauma that never faced justice and spent four years in the back of one’s mind, in the depths of her denial, was finally revealed. She can breathe again. The most tumultuous and unfair heartbreak that any of them had experienced would be discussed and given it’s time to FINALLY be understood because it was never her fault. She grew to be a strong and beautiful woman without him, anyways, thankyouverymuch. One’s all-too-generous heart would be stepped on after she risked heartbreak to give it away. But that pain stood no chance when the others swooped in and proved at least a million positives for every negative. They have all learned to love each other, to tolerate each other, to understand each other this much. They’ve become new women and ones that they, themselves, would likely fail to recognize.


In time, they would finally see that some of the most fussed-over concerns they had within these walls (or not within these walls) were just that: fussed-over. Lacking substance. They’d see that the beauty and unmatched compassion and never-ending love for one another will always stand in front of trouble brewing.


Like a mama bear to her cubs, they have and they will protect one another and a piece of each of them has now grown into a piece of the others’ hearts. Their journey has been tragic, bewitching, inquisitive, flourishing, encouraging and genuine.

I am the walls that give shelter to three beautiful girls that are growing into themselves. They bring life to this old apartment building.

… and they bring love. So much love. With the most open of hearts.

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