It was dark outside. She could see the lights inside the house, and she started knocking on the door. She knew that light was just part of the deal she would get if the door opened, but she did, anyway. Her knuckles hit the wooden surface, again and again. No one opened. She cried. She panicked. She screamed. But nothing helped. It was like dropping something in the sea, hoping that it would find its way back. It was a locked door, and even if the owners heard her, they had no interest of opening it for her. They had shut it for good, as they said they would if she didn`t behave better. She tried. She really tried, but in the end she failed. Now she stood alone in the darkness, sobbing and wanting to die. How could she know that there were other doors right next to this one? When you really want something, you don`t see what`s right in front of you, not before you let go of the past.
We all have our stories, our closed doors that we desperately want to open again. We want to feel the warmth of something that was, even if the embers have long died out. Ironically, it`s not always the good memories and experiences we want back. Sometimes we are haunted by a past that was full of sorrow, because it is familiar to us. We want the happy endings that never came. We want to turn back time and fix everything. I wish changing the past was possible, but it simply can`t be done. We can never change the past, but we can always change the future. We can knock on different doors, we can walk into a different house with real warmth, with light not stained by darkness. We can start new lives, and let the past rest.
Better in the end, surely, to distance yourself than to bloody your knuckles hammering on a door that would never open.