The door I can't open: But that's ok.

The last few months have been a struggle for me. The shock of reality has jolted me into confusion and doubt. Stricken with choice and variety I wilter in my indecision. I stand just to be sat down, I run just to be stopped, and I jump just to hit a ceiling. Although I have choices in front of me I can only see the obstacles I've left behind worried about those to come. The doors in front of me seem pleasant enough but so have all the doors behind me. I wonder are there truly greener pastures on the other side or is it just more dirt? Am I going to look at blue skies or is the world just grey all around? I have to choose a door. What would be the point of staying in more of the same? But I have to say I'm losing hope in finding a better life. There are only so many steps a man can walk in the same direction before thinking there isn't much out there. I breathe. I stare. I put my hand out for the door in front of me but I can't bring myself to open it. Not just yet. I have to take a breath before running myself into another wall. I know there might not be a wall. I know the chances are good for me. I just know that if I do run into another wall I might not be that ok about it. I have to heal. I have to recover from the walls I've run into already. I have to let myself feel the wind for a minute. Even if that minute has to last for a while. But that's ok. I don't have a deadline. I don't have a time frame to open that door. But that door is in front of me. And a door does have to be opened. I take another breath. I stand up tall. I reach out my hand again and my hand goes cold. Frozen again by the possibility of being hurt. But that's ok. It just means it's not ready yet. My hand trembles and retreats into the warmth of familiarity. I look around. There are other doors. They all look the same with similar promises. They all require an uncertain amount of effort to open. They all come with an uncertain promise of "better" whatever that means. They all dangle hope in front of them. But this door is in front of me. Occasionally I would walk to other doors just to look at them. Just to see what they require of me. What they promise.  But that's ok. There's no risk in looking around. Just to make sure this is the door I want. Unfortunately, we can't see into the other side. What comes from opening a door. We just have to open it and take it from there. I close my eyes and take a breath in through my nose then out through my mouth. I open my eyes with determination this time. I stick out my hand and place it on the nob. The moment passes. Another moment follows. I stare intently into the door. The moments have grown into an occasion then into a while. I jerk my hand back. wondering what that door is. I have to know. I want to know. What's behind that door and why is the cost to open it so heavy. But that's ok. It's how all doors are designed. You have to put effort into opening the door and most doors are heavy. This door is heavy. I start to turn my head again to look at the obstacles behind me. The pain and torment I endured just to be faced with another door. But I stop. I focus. And I remain determined to open another door. It's just what I have to do to move forward. I can't stay here. It's empty here. I'm just standing here with nothing to do. With nothing to show. But that's ok. I can stay here for a while. This isn't an obstacle. This place is just abeyance. A moment to breathe. It's what it's designed for. But it's stale here. comfortable enough to stay but not comfortable enough to want to stay. The door again. It seems to mock me in silence. This time I take in a few heavy breathes. I flex my brow. I belt out a cry and thrust myself at the door..... But it's gonna be ok