It’s become more of an obsession. Maybe even OCD inspired.
Before turning in at night, we carefully check the locks. Several times, in fact, to make sure that all of the doors and all of the windows have been bolted completely shut.
It’s only prudent, of course. We wouldn’t want to risk the occasional but curious stranger wandering about. Or, heaven help us, some guy with a bad motive sneaking around while we sleep.
A lock on the door is the only rational response to a world full of strangers existing for reasons that will never have anything to do with us.
Locks were made for doors and windows and diaries. To keep things safe and hidden away. And, for the most part, they work.
Sometimes, though, we find them in ridiculous places. Places that were never meant to be totally secure. Places that might have otherwise drawn us near to that curious stranger in ways we never could have imagined.
Places like the heart.
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