Doors.

A front door in Michigan.

I couldn't tell you how many times I've walked through this door.  My family moved to this house when I was twelve, and when I moved out to my own place (with its own door) seven years later, I didn’t think much of it.  Like a lot of things when I was nineteen, I took it for granted.  That door would always be there.  How could it not?

Coming back now, I see it a bit differently.

“The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend”

— Aldous Huxley

A quote.  How cliché.  How deep.  Whatever.  Seeing this door tonight reminded me of my past.  How different and strange my life is now, compared to when I used to take this whole place for granted.

When I saw it tonight, I wished you could've been with me, even though it would’ve just been a simple door to you.  I was reminded, again, that I still don’t have all of the answers, and as more time goes by, the more I’m able to revisit this place, the more questions seem to pop up than answers.  Who knows, maybe answering questions isn’t the goal of all of this.  Maybe it’s simply having the questions.

I don’t question why you’re in my life.  What our relationship is.  What it means.  Why walking through different doors day after day brought me to you.  But I’m so undeniably happy that I got the chance to meet you, get to know you, and that I get to talk to you every day.  You’re humbling.  Sometimes when I think about you, it’s a little hard to breathe.

Anyway, thanks for being in my life.  I hope we can walk through a few doors together in the future.