Moats and Boats and Waterfalls, Alleyways and Pay Phone Calls

She stood before him, tears running out of her vibrant eyes, down her cheeks.
"I've reached my breaking point," she cried.

He smiled at her, softly and surely.
"There are no such things as breaking points," he told her. "Just obstacles that get in our way. Walls. And all you need to do is get over that wall of yours, and you can continue on your way."

So the weeks went by.
She made her way up the wall in front of her daily, growing used to the support of his hands to guide her.
But, one day, when she looked down,
they were gone.

And she fell. Hard. But she was determined to make her way over the wall, with or without him.
She gave up on practicality; she wanted up and over, and she wanted it now.
So she jumped. And jumped. Over and over, she tried to jump. But it was never high enough.

And he found her one day, sitting next to the wall, curled up and crying.
He took her in his arms, and just held her, for he had never been one for apologies.
She turned to him, looked him dead in the face.
"I can't do it," she whispered.

He looked at her with the same gentle smile.
"Maybe jumping isn't the best way to get over this wall," he said. "But if you're willing to be patient, I can help you build your ladder."

She looked reluctant.
"I just want to go home," she sighed.

He wrapped her in his arms even tighter.
"Anywhere you're with me, you're home. Never forget that."