She was of mesmerizing beauty and a light heart. He was an analytical
sort, of a heavy soul. They’d met years ago on a brief encounter and didn’t see
each other till many open and closed doors later. Two different and yet much
alike beings who were walking on the same road, speeding past each other,
missing one another time and time again.
He feared her natural optimism, she disdained his cynicism.
But as different as their story lines had been all their lives, no two souls
could have matched more perfectly. Their
friendship told that tale.
It wasn’t that they weren’t aware of each other; it was just
much easier to pretend that the feelings weren’t there. It was much safer that
way at least. To thread through life than actually jump in. They hadn’t always
been this way. I mean, they had both had serious relationships in the past. Neither
of which ended well. So maybe it was hesitation of being hurt again, but maybe
it was just that if nothing ever started, they’d never have to worry about its
ending.
SD once wrote that “It’s a lot easier to be lost then found.
It’s the reason we are always searching and rarely discovered – So many locks
not enough keys.” And maybe it’s true. It’s much easier to drift through life
where the only person you have to answer to is yourself. To lock doors, and
throw away keys, or chances, in order to protect our hearts. But if in the process you’ve bolted yourself
in so tightly you can’t escape, did you really put pain at bay? Or did you fall
on your own sword?
I agree that having a door slammed right in your face can
leave you feeling stumped. It takes time to recover. But if we all went through
life so painfully aware of just that, we would never sweep our insecurities and
hug opportunities ever again.
They both mistakenly thought that being strong meant never
letting feelings show. With as much pride as tall as Mt. Everest neither wanted
to be the first to give. So though superbly apparent to everyone else how ideal
they were for each other they continued being just friends and nothing more. And
how could anyone expect to open a door if they’d never even turned the key?
But holding people away from you and denying yourself love,
that doesn’t make you strong. If anything it makes you weaker. Because you are
doing it out of fear. And time was
passing. Crucial minutes and seconds, each one capable of changing everything. That
summer would draw its close, the season would end, and the wind would shift
inevitably. Looking back, it seemed like it should have been harder to lose
someone, or have them lose you, especially when they were in the same state,
only a few towns over.
It’s true, that when turning a key there’s never a guarantee
that what’s on the other side of the door will grant you happiness unimagined. No
one can guarantee that. But it’s also true that no one ever wins a car on a game
show by playing it safe. When it comes to love, you have to all in. Do it right,
or don’t do it all. I mean, you might be pleasantly surprised. And that key,
well, it was always the one to your heart.
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