A door closed today. Hope flared, like a match flaming in the darkness and then dying too soon, leaving only the imprint of its brief light, burning on closed eyelids.
The door is closed. I reached out my hand to try the handle and found it locked, from the other side. In my heart, my soul, I’m throwing myself against it, pounding my fists against its surface, trying to break through … to where I need to be. But outwardly, nobody will never know. I’ll walk past that door every day, never giving it a glance as I laugh and smile and rebuild my life on this side.
The door is closed. Now and then, when it’s quiet, I might press my ear to its cold surface, listen for snatches of the world on the other side. A soft voice, jokes I can’t share, plans and dreams I’ll never be part of. I’ll turn away, smiling, glad that all is well on the far side. But I know I’ll never be part of it, never step through that door again, and I must admit, that realisation makes me die inside every time, just a little.
The door is closed. And I’m here, on this side. And there are good things here. Friends, love, hard work and new challenges. And there was bad stuff on the other side – miscommunication, charades, smoke and mirrors. I know it was bad for me. But I know it was good too. And I look at the door, out of the corner of my eye, and I wonder, and I remember, and I wish…
But the door is closed.
Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday