There was a time when tomorrow felt like a locked room.
I stood outside, holding the key, but too afraid to turn it. Too afraid of what I might find if I dared to open it. Would it be emptiness? Would it be disappointment? Would it be a reminder that the life I imagined with you no longer existed?

So I stayed in yesterday, clinging to memories, replaying what was lost, convincing myself that at least in the past, I knew what to expect. But the truth is, yesterday is gone. And no matter how tightly I held it, it could never hold me back the way I tried to hold onto it.

One day, I found the courage to put the key into the lock.
I opened the door just a little — enough to let a sliver of light in. Enough to see that maybe tomorrow wasn’t something to fear.

Opening the door to tomorrow doesn’t mean the pain of yesterday disappears.
It means allowing yourself to believe that the future still belongs to you. That new laughter can echo through your days. That new love, in all its fragile beauty, can find you when you least expect it.

I have learned that tomorrow doesn’t ask for perfection.
It only asks for a chance.
A chance to be lived, to be written, to be discovered.

So I step through the doorway, slowly but surely.
Carrying the past as memory, not as prison.
Carrying my scars as proof, not as shame.
Carrying myself forward into the unknown — because the unknown is where hope waits.

Tomorrow is not promised, but it is possible.
And that is enough to open the door.

Always and Forever

💬 What helped you open the door to your own tomorrow? Share in the comments — your words may be the key for someone else still standing in front of theirs.