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The House That Built Me

The House That Built Me

The Toybox. 

Every single piece of wood holds a memory.

My memories

It’s held together with love and family.

My family

In this life, it was my most valuable accomplishment because for once, something truly identified me – and not what something scientist decides to label me. Within these walls, I was able to identify myself and give so many a chance at an existence far more worth living than here.

It was here that I had to watch the first generation of my Toybox crumble to the ground in a heap of flames.

It took me a great deal of time to bring it back to life – blood, sweat, and tears- but eventually? The house that built me was back to new and ready for occupancy. I knew I had a lot of work on my hands, but eventually this place would be filled with a bunch of beautiful people whose only wish was to co-pilot life with me – right here.

But something happened.

It turns out, nobody wanted to be there.

Like you, Chip.

That made me a little upset, because I knew that we would’ve been great for each other. I even tried to show you that I had a bunch of brothers that needed a friend too, and you just didn’t care.

And a lot of vulnerable people were hurt because of that, Chip. In hindsight, most of them could have gone on to live out their lives in my Toybox forevermore as happy as a clam – but you constantly made me realize why I’m the most successful out of all of them.

They’re nothing like me. They played your games, you beat them, and they were given their ultimate consequences.

And I don’t ask for much. I do ask that my expectations be met, but you couldn’t help but run away from me.

Me and the house that built me.

Is it because I’m ugly?

Is it because I’m different than you?

Or is it because you fear me, Chip?

I’m sure you’d like to focus on your grand escape last time, but it can’t be easy to let everything else go just like that. 

Whether you like it or not, we had a great time in there – and I think a part of you wants to come back in for another play date. I think another part of you thinks about what’s happened to some of my brothers as a result of your actions.

I did it – for you, Chip.

I killed every last one of them because they weren’t real. They didn’t have the cognitive capabilities of understanding emotion, understanding right from wrong – they were instruction boys devoid of personality – but you?

Oh, you’re a real one = the adventurous tree-swinging boy that I’ve always wanted to open the door of my imagination with – somebody who would just understand me – and that means enough to me to refuse to let you go.

I’ve invited a lot of people over to my Toybox over the years and it’s been nothing but great, great disappointment.

Because it was never the right company.

But… I finally found him.

You

Please, leave your shoes at the door and let’s have fun one last time.

Hahahahahahahaha