The Doorman...

The Doorman… Standing there, waiting.. and looking as the people walk by… Some will stop, and ask the doorman for a thing or two, like where is certain places, or where to find certain things… The Doorman answers, and the stranger gives thanks and goes away and never appear in the Doorman’s life again…

The Doorman expects nothing… It is his job to be there, to just stand there, waiting for someone that needs help… Whoever that is, he ask for no names, nor anything else, but just help in whatever way he can, either showing the stranger in with a smile on his face, or bringing the stranger in… After that, he resumes his post and smile once in a while at whoever that notices he exist…

Little does the people around him knows, how important his job is… Simply because he makes no impact to anyone he meets, nor he changes anyone’s life directly… but, he is always there, when people needs something, making them feel welcomed and not alone, making them feel appreciated and important, making them feel they are not ignored…

Many people take it for granted, for the Doorman is always there, they expect someone to be there, they expect to be treated as such, they expect that the Doorman will come to them even if they don’t need anything, as long as they are in the view of the Doorman…

The Doorman likes his job, he likes helping people out, he don’t mind if they never even say thanks… but secretly, the Doorman laments… the loneliness in him growing each day, slowly…

He sees through people’s doors, and know how they feel, reacting accordingly, making them feel better… but the people around him don’t see through his, for he’s door has grown far too thick, too frosted… for he has been hurt too many times…

In the pass he opens his door, to a new girl, a new hope… but yet he gives and gives and gives… without knowing the girl just don’t care… yes he says, “I don’t expect a thing.” But that is never possible… Have you tried it? Have you done it? Even though not much, but it still hurts inside… as this went on, he shut his door, bolted it up, adding more layers…

He is afraid now, that the past will repeat itself… despite knowing the possibilities… he tries one more time… really careful this time, not to go too far out…

Half in half out, the door suddenly shuts on him… clipping him in the middle, he is trapped between the door… yet he is still struggles, the decision of going out or to going back in… suffering the pain, the burden, the weight from the door…

He sits here now… typing this shit… staring at the window, which lays blank without a reply…

Has he been ignored? Has he been forgotten? Has he been tricked? Lured to the sweat fantasies he once believed in? He can’t take it much longer… just so you know, the person who tempted him… I got no comments for you, but please… pull him out or push him back in… he is helpless there, suffering… so please… just please do something… just anything…