With only a couple of exceptions, I pretty much have an open-door policy to the people in my life. My heart is a place where they can be at home, until there is a reason to evict them.
The door is never locked (again, barring the exceptions), and the people in my life are free to roam at will. Whenever they return, the coffee will be hot, the cake freshly baked, and I'm ready to pull up a chair and talk to them for as long as it takes.
This is odd -- normally, I'm very guarded about who I let in. And I still am. I have a huge 50-room mansion for a heart. Most people don't get past the public rooms. But there are the ones who've made it past the bouncers and velvet ropes. They're also the ones who have the keys to the heaviest doors of all because they've earned those keys.
And doors can close. It is a painful thing to close doors. It's a heartwrenching event to have those doors shut for you.... And to know they can never be opened again. The pangs of a sealed door hurt like no other.
So I'm trying to be braver than I ever have been. To open more doors myself and to try to keep my doors a little more open as well. Because really, life demands it.
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