“The Gate to Heaven is not as welcoming as you may think.” An old man told me this once.
“Why not?” I asked.
He says “After all we’ve been through in our lives. To think that entering such a world would be easier after we’ve been buried is a foolish dream…
Walking up those steps. It’ll it be dark. it’ll be challenging. It’ll be hell. To enter such a world, we suffer, even after death.”
I was like “damn.” and then I told him,
“You wouldn’t really know. You say this because you’ve suffered your entire life. I’ve suffered too. It doesn’t mean I have to keep suffering as my days keep going.
For some heaven is the ultimate goal. they’re born, they learn, the love, they create, and heaven is the resting place if all their life choices were correct.
I wasn’t made for heaven.
My choices weren’t correct.
My life has been nothing but ups and downs.
I’ve done terrible things to good people”
“Then Hell was built for you my friend,” he says with a smirk on his face.
I smile. I look straight into his eyes.
“I wasn’t made for hell either.
I’m a mortal man. I am nothing more than my thoughts. My words. My actions.
In those actions, I’ve made wrong choices, but from those wrong choices, I’ve learned to make the right ones.
The ups and downs of my life have taught to endure every storm thrown my way. It’s taught me to hold my ground and let nothing steer me away from who I am. My strength comes from my experiences. and when Death comes to my door, I’ll say “how you doing?”
“Don’t you worry about that. You still have plenty of time before he comes knocking.”
“You sound confident,” I said.
He didn’t answer. I look around and I don’t see the old man anymore. There was nothing but cars driving by, people chatting in the distance.
“Maybe he took the bus,” I told myself.
I shrugged it off and start climbing the stairs.
“To heaven, I go.”