One door closes for another door to open.
Approaching a crossroad.
Thus far, I've excelled specifically at one characteristic in life: leaving doors open. Setting myself in a position to proceed in any direction. Leaving the exit door of the past ajar has kept my mind at ease and emotions at bay. Saying goodbye has never been pretty when I'm involved. This reassurance has been created as a coping mechanism. Cracked doors mean I posses the ability to sneak back into the past and act as though I never left-- if desire one day strikes.
Neutrals and vintage and pearls and lace; never go out of style. Comforting knowing that my favorite black dress with matching lace pumps won't ever be considered last season. Worse comes to worse I find myself in a bind, that outfit is tucked safely in my closet. Familiar combination of lace and bows and neutrals and pumps never let down; never underdressed. Holding sentimental value, my precious outfit is becoming tattered and torn and quickly approaching the moment where we must part. Representing key moments of the past, people, places, emotions, decisions, priorities-- all which have altered over time. Begging for one more memory. It has served its purpose. The end is near. The time is now.
Certainly, I'll encounter this seasons lace and pearls and bows and pumps that leap off the hanger to share more of life's memories with. Surely this new dress will become tattered and old and eventually hold heart filled and heartrending emotions. In order to arrive safely at these unknown destinations, one must let go of familiar and dependable and recognizable and safe.
Doors must be closed completely; slam if necessary. Emotions will whirl and tears will fall and occasionally, smiles and giggles and sighs of relief accompany these moments. Decisions and doors unique to their own; the prize is reaching forward to the next door handle. Promise, the other side holds hope and adventure and new black lace pumps with bows.
Sometimes, there is no going back.
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