I'm scared. A force prevails in me, foretelling, foreboding, frequenting my conscience. The force is powerful, human. I am visited by a future self less naive, less unknowing. A future self that knows life, has breathed in heart wrenching loss, that has felt pain seethe in her bones. A future self that has felt hope diminish, has forgot it amidst a torrent of emotion. I'm scared of that woman.
I'm afraid that she'll hurt me, the hope that lives in me. When those I know, when those who constitute who I am go, what will remain? I'm scared. My heart trembles. I know of hope, afterlife, of seizing the day and loving hard, I know strength, of reason and purpose, of endurance and meaning. I know these things. I live for these things. I'm just scared, that for a tiny second, a moment, I will lose these things, all of them, consumed and swallowed in grief and despair not knowing, no longer certain that I'll see you again, that I can live without you. That I can actually do this alone.
I know I can. I'm just scared.