If Walls Could Talk

“If walls could talk ……..”

The sentence was left unfinished, but it was enough to stir me from my quiet dozing. Not that anyone in the room noticed. Most people really don’t notice or think about me, at all. People are so used to seeing me, they only notice when I’m not there. Which, when you think about it, is pretty drastic. Afterall, if I wasn’t there, they would be outdoors.

But yes, I’ve seen and heard things throughout my life, that would make most people quite shaky. Adultery, assault, rage, hatred, sorrow, I’ve seen it all. Some of the worst of people has been displayed before me. But then again, so has some of the best. Take for instance, the conversation happening right now, the one that roused me back to listening.

Before I begin to explain what is happening, I need to mention, out of all the people I have witnessed, while I’ve been standing here, these two are probably my favorites. They are soft with each other, and kind. And they laugh, oh, do they laugh! It’s one of my favorite sounds. It’s joyous and lyrical without any of the derision or scorn I’ve heard some people communicate with laughing.

They have been sitting here this evening, quietly talking about their shared past. They have shared a lot with me over the past ten or so years. It wasn’t always laughing and happy. There were times of great sadness. If walls could weep, I would have washed my paint away. But through it all, they were always tender with each other. Like the time she said her father was gone and she’d never be able to see him again. The man held her, rocking her, while she cried. That was not one of my favorite times, I was distraught to see her weep. Well, enough of that … on to happier times.

Like the time they had many people here. There was loud music and talking and laughing. Everyone was in high spirits. There was food and sounds of glasses clinking. Later on, the Man was laughing and trying to coax the woman into doing something, soon all the voices joined in, pleading with her to do as he requested. She finally stood up and all the voices stopped. All the people were looking towards her with smiles on their faces. Softly, she began to sing. People were smiling and some began to nod their heads. The man looked at her with such adoration. Her singing got stronger. She sang beautifully. When she finished, the people clapped and told her how wonderful her song was. Everyone was happy. I liked that night.

Wait. Something has changed. After the man said, “If walls could talk ……..” , the mood has become somber. She is saying she can’t believe this is happening. He’s apologizing.

“I am so sorry. I never wanted it this way”

She’s nodding and tears are on her cheeks. The man is looking away. Get up, man! She is sad. You are supposed to calm her.

“I know,” she says, “I never would have believed we’d end up here”

“The real estate agent will be here tomorrow to do a final walk through before putting the signs up.”

She nods. “I’ll take care of it.”

The man puts some keys on the table, walks over to her and kisses the top of her head. “Please take care of yourself.”

She just nods. I don’t think she can talk now, there’s too many tears.

The man walks to the door, picks up a duffel bag that has been sitting there, opens the door an leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

She is crying.

When people mention “real estate agents”, it usually means there will be new people here soon. That makes me sad, I really like this man and this woman.