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The locked door
It was a long way from the front door to the stairs, as it was a huge house, similar to the one of the Adam´s family. People used to say it was a beautiful house. Still, every single visitor left the house wondering what was there behind the second door on the 3rd floor as it was locked. Not only for the fact that it was locked, but for the fact that it was impossible to take a word from the mouth of the family who lived there. The man of the house used to avoid people asking him about it by moving on to a different subject. It was often claimed that something illegal was being hidden there. But there actually wasn´t.
Not so long ago, I went through a harsh time. There wasn´t actually any specific event that had somehow made me have a pesimistic approach to life, but it all came down to the fact that I was overwhelmed by my own conscience. Everything just seemed to be in vain, pointless. I felt lonely even when I was surrounded by a sea of people. Furthermore, I was drowned in my own tears and it was definitely not an option to share my problem with anybody. It was just me, myself, I, and my thoughts against the universe. I simply didn´t think this world was meant for me and viceversa. It is a fact that being a teenager is supposed to be diffiult. Even so, it was, to the best of my knowledge at least, harder to me than it had been to others. I cried for weeks, seeking for one friendly shoulder to cry on. I tried to find a hand to hold but no one´s touch felt like home to me. I got to the conclusion that neither friends nor time would save me from this. I was absolutely devastated, hopeless.
My "emotional disease", as some people call it, started as every disease starts: with symptoms. At first, I would be too lazy to do anything but sprawl on my bed watching the ceiling. Alternatively, I would not speak for days. It all made sense to my family when I finally didn´t eat. I couldn´t stand it anymore. I was looking for an easy way out, but there was not. Consequently, the only way out I found was to lock myself in my bedroom, and I did. Whether that would help me or not was not the point. To put it another way, I felt better when there was a door separating the opposite: the world and me. I had time to think. I just did that. You see, people usually don´t realise this, but life isn´t really about enjoying the good things it brings, as people usually told me when I was blue. Nonetheless, it is about enjoying its perks but learning from its downs. It is not about talking endless hours with a friend. It is about sitting next to one saying absolutely nothing at all, for silence is precious and only my locking made me realise this. Moreover, it made me realise locking myself would be giving up to life, which was as worthy as watching a falling star in Christma´s eve, for it is magical, and it only happens once in a lifetime. I´m not saying I regret locking myself, don´t misunderstand be. In fact, it helped me, for what doesn´t kill you, makes you stronger and no matter how hard life might be, sunshine follows thunder and after all, life goes on.
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enjoy!