water and warmth and wishing

You know what one of the best feelings in the world is? Right after you turn off the water in the shower and the steam still rises from the top of the door. I haven’t opened the door yet, so the heat lingers and wraps around me like a winter coat even though the water has stopped streaming. I grab my towel and pull it tightly around my damp skin, as if capturing the warmth to save it for a snowy day. Scrunching my nose and shrugging my shoulders to draw my arms just one more inch closer to me, a drop of water slowly slips down my face to the tip of my nose. It hesitates, contemplating jumping off into the unknown abyss or staying comfortably in the safe zone. At the last minute, just when it looks like the drop will settle onto my skin to evaporate like the rest of the drops, it leaps. Down, down, down. Into the nameless void.
As my eyes gently close, soaking up each quickly fading moment, I rest my forehead against the cool, smooth tile on the shower wall. Contrary to the shock I think will envelop my body, the chilled wall provides a refreshing, soothing complement to the condensation fogging the clouded-glass door. I sigh. Shoulders relax. This is bliss, I decide. Yea.
“I wish I could stay here forever and just rest in the comfort of the predictable. Hot water. Cold water. Steam rising. Drops dropping. Heat warming. Tile cooling.”
But as with many wonderful things, the fairy tale must have a happily ever after, The End. I cannot stay wrapped in my bubble of ease and heat forever. I take a deep breath and ever-so-slowly remove my forehead from the wall and open my eyes. Not willing to untangle myself from my towel just yet, I reluctantly slide an arm from beneath its sanctuary and push the Door open into the harsh world.
“Click,” the Door gaily responds to my push. A little too chipper for what lies behind it. The harsh, arctic Wind swirls in and instantly dissipates any remaining Warmth. I almost close the Door and retreat back to safety and security, but I instead brace myself and face my fears. It’s hard, and I don’t want to. But I can’t go back to what was. I can take another shower, have another moment of ecstasy, but not ever this exact feeling. Recognizing my fate, I take that initial step that should be easy. It’s not like I’ve never gotten out of the shower before. It’s not like I’ve never been able to trust the world beyond the opaque Door and reassuring Drops. But it’s still as hard as the first time to abandon what I know. What I used to trust. It’s impossible to logically find a reason to leave, except for the fact that it just seems to make so much sense
So I step out anyways.