Do you still see it? No… but I remember it. So we won’t choose it again

In the beginning, their connection was exactly that: a warm Presence on a cold morning. You couldn’t hold it in your hand, but it warmed you if you stayed close. No one spoke of Walls then. Only of possibilities.

When the breakup came, Player A stopped in his tracks and looked long at what hurt him. He looked at the misunderstandings, the fatigue, the twisted words. His gaze became heavy, focused. And from that gaze, something hardened, materialized. The Presence began to cool. The atoms settled.
A Wall appeared!!!

For A, the wall was real. He felt it cold under his palms. “That’s it,” he told himself. “This is where it ends.”

Player B arrived a few moments later. He reached out toward partner A and hit it. Not against his own Wall… no. For him, it was still Presence.
“Look through it,” whispered B to A. “Can you see? We are still here!”

But the laws were cruel. When one chooses to maintain the Wall, the other breaks their forehead against it. And Player B cried not because he wasn’t loved, but because the love for him had become invisible to the other player, A.

Days passed. Then months. The wall remained.
But something interesting happened: no one was looking at it anymore.

Player B stopped shouting. He turned his gaze toward himself. Toward life. Toward light. Not to forget, but to breathe.
And Walls, as is known, without a gaze, begin to crack.

One day, Player A approached again. Not with longing, not with hope, but only with silence. And in that silence, for the first time, he no longer looked at the Wall. He looked at the void within it.
And the void was… Presence.

He blinked. The stone of the Wall softened. Not because someone forced it, but because, finally, both observers were looking in the same place.

“Do you still see it?” … asked B softly.
“No,” answered Player A. “But I remember it.
So we won’t choose it again!”

And so, they didn’t embrace immediately. They promised nothing grand. They did something rarer: they chose reality together.

Connection was no longer a fragile Presence. Nor a Wall!
It became something new: breathable air between two people who learned where to place their gaze.

A happy ending not because the Wall didn’t exist. But because it was no longer chosen!!!

Moral

When bonds between friends in metaverse games (Second Life) begin to creak, this is often the mechanism at work. One person freezes the pain into a Wall, while the other still reaches for what once was. Pushing harder rarely helps Walls grow thicker when they are stared at too long.

Sometimes, the most effective choice is simpler and braver:
give time.
give space.

Not to abandon the connection, but to stop feeding the Wall. When attention shifts back to life, to self, to light, the Wall loses its power. And only then does a shared reality become possible again.

A happy ending, not because nothing broke
but because what was broken was no longer chosen.