About the Doors

What was that about one door closing, another opening?  Does it really work that way?  Does it?  I slammed that one door before.  Slamming doesn’t work too well.  It didn’t.  The door cracked open.  Whatever was to stay behind it, didn’t.  I had to go back, against that all, and close it again, this time mindfully and firmly.

Oh how hard that was.  No cracks, no air, no light.

I turned around to make the first step in that choking darkness.  There you stood, shining, strong, beautiful, beloved by many.  

You were the second to last person I wanted to see.  Maybe a tie for the third.

“What the hell,” I thought.  “What do you want from me?” I asked.  “I have a gift for you,” you replied, “I can’t keep it; I need for you to accept it today”.

“Why me?!” I asked.  “Because you are strong, and beautiful, and we are so much alike,” you replied.  “For fuck’s sake,” I thought.  “Oh?” I uttered.  “There is something that stands between us,” you continued.  “Yes there is,” I said, “yes there is.”  I told you about what just happened with the door business.  I told you how what stood between us corrupted my soul.  You cried.  We both did.  You told me what you saw and how you faced it.

I couldn’t accept the shiny gift you came to offer, not at this time, something was off.  Nonetheless, you bestowed on me so much.  You took a dead weight of lost hope off my shoulders.  Precisely because we are so much alike, you showed me my power and handed it back to me.  You showed me, without blame, the pain I cause others by forsaking it, the pain I caused you.  I thought I was only hurting myself.  I didn’t know.  I am sorry.  You validated me and you replaced shame and resentment in my heart with love and gratitude for you.

I love you.  Thank you for standing on the other side for me.


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