In my dreams I saw a door, ajar.

A ray of light filtered through the darkness I was in, still I was afraid to open it. What if the light is so bright to leave me blind?
It took me a while to get used to the blue mist that covers everything in the dark, I'm not going to throw the effort away.

There were people going through the door; I caught glimpses of the room and seeing that there was nothing to fear, I got closer.
As I put my hand on the ****, I felt myself swing back and forth, being crossed from side to side, slammed, opened again, pushed and pulled.

I was the door: always a way station, a passage, a portal, something to be through with at some point, and never the room, never a place to dwell, never the destination.

I was bound to stay at the door, neither out, nor in, stuck in a limbo.
Never allowed in the room, kept away from the business, away from conversations, parties, meals, away from the endless stream of everyone else's existence.
Always a silent observer, peeping in.