Sometimes I’m so afraid of being alone, usually at the exact moment that I want to be alone the most. It’s funny, really, how fickle the mind is. Mine has been churning and swirling so much lately that I hardly know what to think. It’s like going outside on a cold winter’s night, gazing up at the stars and spinning in circles until you’re positive that you’re going to fall over. You enjoy the rush, the crisp night air and the beautiful view, but that fall is inevitable and the only real question at hand is whether there will be someone there to catch and steady you, or whether you’re going to hit the ground hard. Part of me wants to fall simply for the sake of falling; then again, how much is it going to hurt when I hit that blacktop beneath me? All of this brings about another feeling: vulnerability. Most people (or at least the people I know) have no qualms about admitting that they wish for strong and/or loving arms to fall into. The fact that I wish for those arms at times like these is something I both cherish and am ashamed to admit. I’ve always prided myself on being independent, being strong and loving myself for who I am. And I feel, somewhere deep within me, that I’m incapable of letting myself fall head over heels for another person. So instead I spin faster and faster, stumbling occasionally and yet determined to never take my eyes off of the sky because if I do, if I stop spinning, the rest of the world will go on spinning without me. I’m afraid; I’m afraid of standing still in a world that’s constantly spinning. I’m afraid of falling into the arms of another, and afraid of disappointing the people important to me, of not being good enough. I am petrified of one of the most important aspects of life, and terrified of leaving this world without having truly lived at all. So where does that leave me?
It leaves me here, pouring out my feelings into a Word document at nearly three in the morning and half ashamed that I’m even typing this in the first place. After all, I’m so blessed. I have a life to live, people I love, and I see the beauty everywhere. If only those things could keep the weaknesses away, the loneliness and the fear of getting too close to anyone. I guess these are all things that make me truly human. After all, we are all weak. I am not better, stronger, or any less ordinary than every single living thing on this planet. Weakness is a part of living, a fact that should be accepted. I suppose that’s why I write these little notes; I need to face my weaknesses and demons. I need to learn that they are just a part of me, and that is nothing to be ashamed of. Am I still ashamed? Of course I am. Being human is complicated. Things don’t change so easily. So this is me attempting to accept my humanity. Perhaps now, whenever I’m rejoicing under that immense, deep sky, I’ll remember. Maybe now, whenever I’m spinning too fast and I can’t seem to stop, I’ll accept my weaknesses just a little bit more. Maybe, one day, I’ll just let myself fall.