Staring

Like a fisherman's wife,
looking to the sea year after year,
I kept staring at a closed door
wishing it would open.
Behind that door were many moments
of love and friendship,
moments of mutual respect
and moments of hurt.

Sad.
I was sad due to everything lost.

It took a long time for my eyes to turn,
a long time to spot a different door
that never was closed.

Even then my eyes did not want to let go.
They wanted to stay,
to dwell in the past
as if past happiness could be relived.

I have now turned my eyes
and I am walking away from it,
towards a door wide open.
As I step through the open door
and close it behind me
I will not see the other door anymore.