It's So Much Worse Than We Ever Thought

Sometimes I feel like Antarctica.  And that makes me afraid, because she never loved anyone.

I am afraid.  Of you.  Of the sky.  Of the dirt.  Of the little pieces of my skull that I left behind in Colorado and San Francisco.  I'm afraid of it all.  Afraid of us.

We were made to break hearts, that's why.  We were made to let each other fall, to bury each other in the Earth's core, so deep that no thing can utter the word "forgiven," as overdue as it is.  We were made to die.  And die we shall.

And I'm afraid to die, just like I'm afraid to live.  Because the only thing worse than termination is immortality.  The only thing worse than watching your mother die is being forced to go on afterwards.  And the only thing worse than that is the fear.  The anxiety.  The death grip it has on my heart is unbearable, unimaginable, and irreverent.  And I don't even know which of those is worse.

Because when you upset God... now that's really worse than all of it, isn't it?

I am too afraid of that.

I'm afraid of upsetting my mom, also.  But I'm more afraid of her upsetting me.  I'm afraid of her telling me that I can't go to college because she spent all the money on groceries.  I'm afraid that that has happened.  I'm afraid of it happening again.  And again.  And again.  Until my grandparents close down the inn and we live in our car.

I'm mostly afraid of one day waking up and not being afraid.  Because someone like me needs the fear.  Needs to feel insignificant and worthless.  Someone like me doesn't deserve to be brave.  Because the second I'm afraid, I leave.  And I don't know what I'd do if I could stay.  I don't know what I'd do.