You know someone.
You love this someone. Or not.
But, you stay away from them. You need to.
They’re good to you, sometimes. They’re bad for you too, that’s why. You can’t deal, you know you can’t.
But you can help. You choose not to. Because you know there’s a time you really can’t and this is that time.
There’s that thin line.
It’s called fear.
Fear of failure, of drowning from soul-sucking interactions. Of staying stagnant from dead souls. Of broken hearts that keep bleeding. Fear of cheap shirts with ripped edges and bad-stitched hems. Of thatched houses and bare feet. Of stretched out hands asking for more. Fear of swollen eyes from crying. Of greed, of hungry souls that are never full. Of lust, glamour and pomp you don’t really need. Of pride and swag you can’t afford. Fear of all things you are not, of what you don’t desire to be. Of that which is a mystery to you. Of all the ways that are not you.
I am that someone.
I know someone like that.
I fear that someone.
This is why we can not be one, as a tribe, a family, a nation, humanity. And maybe why we really shouldn’t be. Sometimes anyway. In a world of chaos, tragedy and me, me, me, fear could be your only protector.
But if you’re courageous enough to break that barrier and confront that fear. You might just find that thing, that feeling, you’ve been looking for, in that someone. Someone you’re afraid of.
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This post was previously published on Hello, Love.
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