window1

 

I have a window in my room.

Everyone else has it too. That window.

I named mine the Window of Soul. And the Window of Destruction.

From my window, I could see others’.

Some keep theirs wide open all the time. Some open and shut it alternately.

And some are shut closed tightly, like mine.

 

When the sun shines too much, I drew thick curtains over it.

When raindrops drummed against it, I put scotch tape along the edge.

When the wind rattles it, I nailed wooden boards to strengthen it.

When people knocked, I would pretend I wasn’t in.

 

It is the window of my soul. Through it, I could see the world.

I could see people. I could see the clouds. I could see the flowers blooming.

I could see the ice cream cart. And the lollipop men. And the chocolate store.

Sometimes I find my hands reaching for the latch. I yearn to push it wide open. 

Even momentarily.

Even only to feel the breeze blows.

 

But it is also my window of destruction.

And for that, I keep it shut. Temporarily.

Until I’m strong enough to resist the temptations.

Until I learn to balance everything perfectly.

One day.

And I hope, when the window is finally open, it won’t be too late.

I hope I won’t regret it.

I hope it won’t be my downfall.

 

But for now, let me find my strength.

Let it be closed.

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