When Everyone Sleeps... Why Don't We Close the Doors?
Why do we leave the doors open, even when we know that behind them lie stories we do not want to revisit, people who have left enough pain in our souls, and secrets that should have been buried long ago?
Perhaps because humans do not know how to close what was once a part of them.
We are adept at leaving with our bodies, but our souls lag far behind. We depart the place yet remain in it; we distance ourselves from people yet carry their voices with us. We say it is over, while deep inside, something still awaits an end that has not come.
And when everyone else sleeps, and we are left alone with ourselves, things we thought we had moved past return to us. An old story, a vanished face, a word we never spoke, and a secret we kept for so long that it became part of our silence.
News Services
We hold onto our secrets as if they are the last remnants of ourselves. We fear revealing them, and fear even more folding them away. Some stories become inner rooms over time, which we inhabit alone, entering them when everyone else sleeps, and reclaiming details we thought we had forgotten. Perhaps this is why we grow weary; because we live in the present with our feet, and in the past with our hearts.
But why cling to what hurts us?
Why do we linger long over a relationship that the heart knows has exhausted its capacity for life? Why do we wait for an apology that may never come, for a change that may never happen, and for a return that we know deep down will not restore things to their original state?
Sometimes, leaving is an act of mercy. We distance ourselves because we are tired, because the past has taken more than its fair share of our lives, and because the time we waste waiting could have been a whole lifetime of living. Sometimes we act as if we have endless time ahead.
We postpone joy, postpone travel, postpone the words we wish to say, and even postpone ourselves, as if life will grant us another chance every time one is lost. Then we suddenly discover that the years were not waiting for us, and that the days we considered abundant were passing silently, one after another.
How much do we have left?
This question alone can awaken something dormant within us.
How much time is left to wait for someone who will not come? How much to carry a secret that weighs heavily on the heart? How much to live as prisoners of what has happened, while life moves forward before us, without looking back?
Life is too short to spend waiting for the perfect moment. There is no perfect moment, no complete ending, and no guarantee that the new path will be free of pain. But we know that standing still in the same place will not bring back what has passed, and that clinging to what has ended may deprive us of an opportunity that has not yet begun.
Everything passes. People, places, dreams, and even ourselves. What we consider today a fixed truth may tomorrow become merely a distant memory. Everything is a mirage within a mirage, and perhaps the wisdom of life lies in knowing when to stop chasing what cannot be grasped.
Therefore, when staying hurts, leave. Close what has ended quietly, without hatred, and without any desire to take revenge on the past. Leave the story where it belongs, and take from it only what made you more self-aware. Then move on.
Perhaps what awaits you behind that door is not merely a new beginning, but a whole life you had been postponing while you waited.
A Bahraini writer
