Boundaries are demarcations of space; of existence. They're very clear distinctions of the extent of a person's comfort zones. They are barriers, and at the same time, safe houses for people, depending on where you stand.

Doors are a symbol of such boundaries. Doors may be evocative of safety for a child, where he knows with all his heart that he is home, and that nothing of the outside world may lay a finger on him. Doors are a symbol of a person's inhibitions if he doesn't dare to step out of it to walk in the world that lies outstretched before him. Doors represent possibilities for many, and the limitless possibilities the human spirit provides for those who dare and care to proactively make the first move. Doors are a sign of freedom, for dogs and cats who freely enter and leave as they please without a single care in the world except for their innate instinctive compulsions. Doors give you the sense of mystery and intrigue in not knowing what exists outside your current realm, with the prospect of a million uncertainties that await you just outside of that door. Doors give space for secrecy and distrust to brew and fester.

Fear, anxiety, secrecy, intrigue, mystery, defense, comfort, safety, warmth, love. Doors represent those.

But tonight, doors are none of those. Doors are an image of exclusion. It bears the message of another person's inability or absence of the desire to let you into their lives. It refuses you entry. It doesn't trust you. It doesn't allow your petition. It doesn't give you a chance. It's the ultimate sign of rejection because there is no other means of access to the person who exists just beyond that door. It's unforgiving. It's cold. More than anything. It represents an unwillingness of the person to even try. To even give you a chance. It takes a very rare breed of human being to be able to open up that door to you, when all that is contained within that door is so temptingly, seductively, and hypnotisingly exclusive.

My door is always open. And many people have walked out of my door. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother keeping my door open because people tend to take for granted that it's always open, and that there will always be a smiling, willing host behind that door. It's tiring, watching people leave and being unable to go after them. You want so desperately to close the door and keep them with you, and to be happy in the security that that no one else may have what you have. But it's selfish, and I relent to my conscience.

But all is not lost. Because I know deep down inside, that while people will never stop taking me and my friendship for granted and will always walk out on me as they please, I know that God keeps me safe, and that ultimately some one will take a step in, and will see the beauty that exists within me. Someone will see the person that no one else sees. Someone will understand the strength, and the immensities of my heart, and someone will break my door down, and tell me that there's no longer a need for such barriers. That there finally is safety and security.

I don't know about you.

My door will always be open.