A door of happiness presents itself. It has two buttons: A and B. A sign below the B button promises that pressing it will make the door of happiness disappear. I press the A button, hoping to enter. The door of happiness disappears. Time passes. A door of happiness presents itself again. I press the A button again, thinking the first door may have had a glitch. The second door of happiness disappears. A longer period of time passes. A new door of happiness presents itself. I, experienced, press the A button yet again, confident that three consecutive doors could not possibly have glitches. The newest door of happiness disappears. An even longer period of time passes. A door of happiness appears. I, wrinkled and scarred due to passing time, stare at the door. It is actually an interesting door. It has scuffs and peeling paint, yet there are amazingly unique motifs carved into it. Realizing the beauty of the door, itself, I hesitate to press the A button again, hoping the door will remain if I refuse to press any buttons. Time passes. Both the door and I remain in each other’s company. One day, I awake to find the door slightly ajar with the warmest and most welcoming light emitting from the gap. A sign below the A button reads ‘Enter’. I hesitate, overwhelmed with both excitement and trepidation. What do I do?