Doors

Where am I?

My freedom was a lie.

To think there would be no bounds: there are walls.

To think I could wander aimlessly: there are doors.

I could turn around, I could go back to those in the maze of my previous half year. I could turn around, I could go back to the someone who still searches for me.

I could, but I won't.

Where would that take me? I don't want to go backwards, but then that's the safe option. I know what I left behind, but what lies ahead is unknown waters- worlds unseen. Maybe I could be happy in the past. Maybe I SHOULD be contempt with my past.

I'm not.

I step forward; I will myself into a seemingly endless corridor of doors. The floor and ceiling mirror each other- the infinite reflections stream on both above and bellow me.

Is there freedom beyond? Somewhere behind one of these doors?

In the vastness of the space around me, I feel small. No matter how large I really am, it cannot compare to this continuous tunnel.

Yet, I press on.