The closing of a door can bring blessed privacy and comfort - the opening, terror. Conversely, the closing of a door can be a sad and final thing - the opening a wonderfully joyous moment.
Some doors take a really fucking long time to close. There is one particular door in my life that I've been closing--pushing and pushing shut for many years now. This one turned out to be way heavier than I originally thought... Unimaginably heavy in fact. Yet, how readily it swung open again, at every possible opportunity... It is now close to being shut, with but a fell breeze blowing in..
In trying to close this heavy door I speak of, I've conveniently been able to delay opening another one. God knows what lies behind it! At least I know the dungeon I came from! Hehe...
But seriously, I don't want to live my life in a corridor, in a waiting room... I want to bravely enter whatever spaces and phases might lie ahead. It's time to make that final exertion, I now know for sure that I'm strong enough to shut the damn door. I don't want to catch another whiff of that breeze, of toxic fumes. And perhaps what lies behind the next door is sunshine and fresh air! Who the fuck knows? I think it's time I find out.