Truthfully, I have plenty of fears; that’s why I don’t do much of anything. I fear failure and loss and impairment. And a lot of the time, that’s the number one thing that I hate about myself. I let the part of me that lives in fear take care of the part that craves recklessness and adventure. The stick-in-the-mud would rather I exist in a safe, comfortable state, than actually, really live, and deal with the lows that are sure to follow.
It’s funny, too, because I act like such a know-it-all, but I have barely experienced life to know anything. I know debt and divorce and family, and a tad bit of history and literature and science and math. That’s not going to get me anywhere!
I’m the one that says that the last thing I want to do with my life is to stay in Brentwood forever. Sure, I love my hometown, but that’s all I want it to be. Where I come from.
I don’t want to be like everybody else; who says that Brentwood is such a horrible, crowded place to live, that they want to leave so badly, and move to the south. The people that say all of that, and then stay, anyway. I don’t want to be another person who stays in the same place forever. Brentwood isn’t a horrible place, but I’m not meant to stay here forever.
I want bigger, better things from life.
And to top it all off, to be the realest of real with you, staying here isn’t my biggest fear. And
living in fear just existing isn’t my biggest fear, either. And I’ve said multiple times before that never being able to have children of my own is my biggest fear, but I don’t even think that’s it, anymore. Sure, I fear of all those things, in great amounts. But the thing I probably fear most is falling for someone.
I know that love isn’t how it’s portrayed on television or in the movies. I’ve seen and heard so many times that it’s messy, and a never-ending rollercoaster of emotions and compromise and adventure. I know that it can either make you feel like you’re flying or break you into a million pieces. It’s not that part that scares the hell out of me.
It’s the fact that it’s one big game of chance, and that you have to put all of your trust into it. I’m so incredibly picky when it comes to trust. Hell, I pick and choose what I tell even the people that I trust the most. I try to be meticulous with what I say around people. Sure, things slip every now and then, but I try my hardest to watch myself. I hold back a lot.
If you want to spend your life with a person, you’re not supposed to be that way. You’re supposed to be open and trusting and willing to share everything. And, especially right now, that’s just not who I am.
I don’t think that I’m completely closed off; I’ve been working on telling people how I feel about things. But I don’t want to be like this if I meet a guy that I like, who might actually like me back.
What if I didn’t share enough, or what if I shared too much? What if I shared something that they didn’t like, that made them decide that they couldn’t invest in me (us?) anymore?
I know that this is all hypothetical, but that’s just how my mind works. I can’t help but think about every little thing that could possibly go wrong! I literally have nothing to offer anybody; there’s nothing remotely special about me that would make a guy want to, as the kids would say, “wife me up”. I’m just a twenty-two year old girl with the skillset of a privileged sixteen year old, and a mindset of an anxious forty year old.
Honestly, I would probably just make someone go completely insane.
And the worst part is that I don’t even know how I became this way. I wonder if I’m just trying to find other excuses to even bothering because the I’m-fat–and-not-as-attractive-as-other-girls card is getting old.
I would like to get some of my life together, make some kind of life for myself. I feel like the way that I look at it is that getting a boyfriend isn’t as important to me as making something of myself, and proving that I’m more than the kid who dropped out of college. Because I don’t want to live like this, and a boy isn’t going to solve that kind of thing for me.
Nobody can solve my problems except for myself.
I know that is post sounds really sad, and I’m sorry about that. I probably should have given some kind of reader’s discretion notice at the beginning; but to be honest, I didn’t think I was going to be ending this here.
I think I’m in this mindset because I’ve just been told a lot lately that I need a boyfriend, that I need to get out of the house. You know, it’s really tiring to hear that kind of thing all the time.
I don’t think that I need to get a boyfriend; I just need to get a life. I need to stop stalling. I need to learn to stop existing in fear.
Prompt: People are afraid of all kinds of things: spiders, the truth, or being enclosed in small places. Tell us about your greatest fear—rational or irrational.