Bailey (о•оѕоїојоїо»оїоіо®пѓоµо№п‚ 6) Instant

They always told me a bailey was meant to be a place of safety—the inner courtyard where the village breathes behind high stone walls. But tonight, the walls feel like they’re leaning in.

This is my sixth confession, and it’s the one I’ve been dreading. They always told me a bailey was meant

For months, I’ve played the part of the stoic official, the "steward" my name implies. I’ve managed the logistics, organized the chaos, and kept the gates barred against everything we’re afraid of. People look at me and see a fortification, a "berry clearing" of peace in a world that’s mostly thorns. But here is the truth: I am tired of being the wall. For months, I’ve played the part of the

It’s easy to be the person who holds everything together until you realize you’ve built a cage around yourself. We talk about "defensive walls" as if they only keep the enemies out. We forget they also keep us trapped. I’ve spent so much time maintaining the perimeter of my life that I’ve forgotten how to live in the center of it. But here is the truth: I am tired of being the wall