The Door - Part I

NOTE: I wrote this back in 2001 when I was just beginning a relationship with a strong, beautiful dominant Lady who lived in the Tampa Bay area at the time. If You are reading this, please drop me a line, I would love to catch up!

Alone in the room that is my life,
I pause.

To reflect.
Take stock.

Who am I?

I start from my beginning.
Child.
Brother.
Player.
Student.
Reader.
Friend.
Loner.
Thinker.
Dreamer.
Worker.
Lover.
Husband.
Father.

Like flowers in a garden,
Some have blossomed with tender care,
While others grow wild, untouched.
But all have survived the winds and rains.

Which are my treasures? My jewels in the dirt? I wonder.

I prune away until the garden is bare.
Analyzing.
Calculating.
Evaluating.
Seeking.

Some are left at my feet, not needed.
Unimportant now.
But they shall grow again, wild and free.
They shall survive.

The others I cradle in my hands.
My treasures.
My jewels.
My life.

I examine each closely.
Seeking.
Searching.

Not finding, I look again.

* * *

Two tears.
Falling softly.

* * *

Where in these am I? I wonder.

I spy parts of me in each.
Interdependent.
Interwoven.

But none just me.

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Alone in the room that is my life,
I pause.

There is a door.

Open now,
It beckons me.
Calls to me.
Pulls at me.

A passage awaits.

But what of my treasures? I wonder.
Can they survive in there?
It is dark and they need my light.

A whisper.

If you are weak, they shall fall from your grasp.
Trampled upon, they shall wither and die.
And the passage shall scar you.

If you are strong, they will be crushed in your fist.
Cut off from your nourishment, they shall wither and die.
And the passage shall mark you.

Is there nothing between? I wonder.
No way to keep them safe?
Must I stay in this room to keep them from dying?

Perhaps.

Or must I leave them behind without me?

Perhaps that is best.
The passage is long
And dimly lit.
Demons await you.
The mind must be strong, and the body, too.
Unfettered, they must float with the wind,
Riding the currents.
One moment bent but unbroken against the gale.
Another time fluttering in the updraft above the fire.
That is what awaits you.

But your mind must be free
And your body unencumbered.
Or the passage will break you and burn you.

So you must leave them there.
They will be safe for a time.
The passage will twist and turn,
But there is only one entrance,
And only one exit.
The door to the room.

Is there no way I can take them?

Perhaps tucked in my shirt.
Warm against my breast.
Close to my heart.

I fear for them alone there without me.

For they are me, yet not me.
Mine, yet not mine.

Please? Can't I take them?

Where?

Through the door.

But why go through?

Because I am searching.

Searching for what?

For me.

But you are here, alone in this room.

No, I am not.

Then where are you?

I do not know.
In there, perhaps.

Then who can you be, alone in this room?

I do not know.

* * *

Falling softly.
Two tears.

* * *

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Alone in the room that is my life,
I pause.

Treasures clasped close.

There is a door.

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