Closed Doors

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had to deal with this no matter what the voice in my head said. All I see, hear, and feel; is a cold metallic door. Permanently closed, probably rusting from the ends. That thing that keeps me locked away from the world, an intruder in my mind. Someone who came in uninvited. The sadness that crept in and years of anguish stayed bolted, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break through. I mean, what could a 16-year-old do, after all? Until I was 20, someone knocked, willing to be friends with a sad, depressed-looking boy. But, too late because the door was made of sturdy hinges and jambs with a metallic body. The door remained bolted all the time. I knew I wanted to let someone in, but who? Some people were only curious to know what was behind that door. They didn't care about its past or the future. I mean, I could have just lied, lied about myself, about my past, and turned into a new person entirely and begun a new life, yet something always stopped me. The door kept me in its evil realm and made me believe there was no escape. One night I trudged home, desperately searching for my house keys. Lying on my cot looking out the window, I realized something that scared me. I have been living alone, independent, and quite happy for four years. I could be who I wanted to be behind these closed doors, so why was I trying so hard to let someone in? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was where I had to be, not being intruded on or troubled by anyone. It was all an illusion, a make-believe I created to keep myself away from toxic people. The door never really had a key... Or wait, was there even a door?