It's almost as if it's alive. It acts independently of me. Although I’m unsure of when it first arrived or when I first used it, I do know that the door has evolved. When I was younger if there were feelings I wanted to hide, situations I didn't want to remember or actions I didn't want to admit to, I would put them in bag and take them to the door. I would leave the bag outside and leave. I know it took the bag because of the sense of relief I would have after and could carry on as normal. After a while this changed, I would still place things in a bag and zip it up, instead of me searching, looking and going to the door, the door came to me.
More recently though, depending on the situation and or the urgency, I didn't have to put things in a bag or look for the door or even wait for it. It would just be there. On rare occasions it's there already, waiting, knowing that it was going to be needed even before I did.
I did rely and depend on the door. It protected me and kept me safe.
The one thing that the door had never done was give me anything back.
What the door did at the airport was to protect me. It helped me leave. It allowed me to manage. It helped me to cope.
It knew I couldn't cope with leaving my one true love, with separating our beautiful daughter from her loving mother. The door knew I couldn't manage, taking Livi on a 16 hour flight across the world, feeding her changing her. Carrying her and our entire luggage across London in the freezing cold.
The door helped me.
But, the one thing the door had never before done was give anything back.
As Livi and I got closer to our destination I started to see things and remember things. But only what I needed to keep me motivated, to keep me going. Every time I needed something, or should I say, the door decided I needed something, it appeared and gave something back.
Once I had reached my destination and achieved the final goal of hearing Melody's soft warm face the door gave everything back. All my memories of our time together came back.
The door didn't give everything back. It kept the airport. It didn’t' give me back the pain and hurt and suffering I was feeling. It only gave me back the good things.
After I finished speaking with Melody, I sat back, calm, relaxed and closed my eyes. I went to the door. It was still the same door, no way of opening it. No hinges, no handle, no lock where a lock should be only the word lock - L.O.C.K
Next to the door was still the list, the inventory of what was behind it. But it had changed. No longer did it say Melody 2008 - 2012. Now it said airport August 2012.
I said thank you, and left the door.
THE DOOR - to be continued