A lot of things scare me: the feeling of hollow, beautiful closure right after you finish a masterpiece of a book, the idea of my life never really amounting to anything, any sort of horror movie, because I’m an utter scaredy-cat (why do people like scaring themselves??).
Also, not being loved back. It goes for a lot of human beings and a lot of other organisms - to stay in the herd, to fit in, to be loved for nothing else but who you are. And that’s where insecurity comes from, and worry. Often I forget this fear, often I assure it and hide it and smuggle it away on a ship and pay the captain to never let it come back again. It's never far away, though. And when it finds me then I become unreasonable and have my worst moments, not to mention use enough tissues to feel like I owe my parents money for using so much of them.
I don’t think utter loneliness like the middle of a forest would be as bad because then you can at least somewhat attest the lack of love to the lack of other sentient human beings to communicate with. And even then you would have animals, hopefully, who are usually pretty darn good at unconditional love.
But when you’re surrounded by hundreds of people, it’s harder to make that excuse. It’s scary because the results don’t really rely on your effort - how much you pour into a person, it’s never a guarantee of anything back. And so the solution is to never expect anything back, and to be free in your caring. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t terrifying in some way.
But then there's always some sort of Asian food, or some sort of wings or salad with Asian sauce that always manage to cheer everything up, or a picture of a really really cute kitten. And then I question my emotional stability (which if it is affected by food, it's really not much). Even rereading my post, I wonder why I would ever think those thoughts. Meh.
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