Fears

I'm afraid of everything.

Like what if after we die, that's it. Nothing. It's just over. Or even worse, what if after we die, we live forever. I mean, like, forever. Eternity. It just keeps going and going and going and going...

and going. And going. And going.

I think I need an aspirin. But only one this time.

Even though I don't understand how my heart works, I know that it beats without my help. I'm afraid that if I ignore it, one day it might stop altogether.

I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid of them crawling and having babies. I'm afraid of them under my covers and in the shower. Afraid of smashing them. Of smashing one of them and she's pregnant and baby spiders everywhere.

But I'm not afraid of anything. I look at myself in the mirror every morning and I'm comfortable.

My skin is just the right size

and I may not be at peace,

but it's so close I can feel it.

I'm scared of you. I'm scared of everything you'll never be and everything you could be. I'm afraid of potential, which physics taught me is the charge in an electromagnetic field, but life taught me is the root of all sadness. I'm afraid of what could have been.

I can listen to music with my eyes closed. And if I concentrate hard enough, I can predict my own heart beat. I stay up at night and wonder if this is as good as it gets.