What is fear, really?
To most people, it's a lack of courage—being frightened in dangerous or life-threatening situations. But for me?
Fear is something entirely different.
If you asked me what my definition of fear is, I'd say:
It's the burden and heartaches I carry inside—the deep pain I feel all the time, especially from people. From humans, of course. (Sigh.) Regardless of what anyone else thinks, I need to say this.
And I'll try to be brief... mostly because my phone might die any second now. 😅
But seriously—back to what I was saying.
Fear.
Have you ever been afraid of your own thoughts? Or maybe even afraid of yourself?
Because I have. Many times.
If you asked me what fear looks like, I wouldn't give you the usual answer.
I've always known myself to be a bit sly, cheeky—maybe even stubborn. Okay, a lot stubborn. But the one thought that's raced through my heart the most is fear.
And not just any fear.
It's the fear of showing my lover-girl side to someone who didn't value me.
The fear of opening up to someone who rejected me.
Who made me feel unwanted, foolish, and small.
Yes, I simped.
I simped for love. I regret it.
And now I hate myself even more for seeing him every day.
Honestly? It pisses me off.
Big time.
Why couldn't he just stay gone?
Why couldn't he forget me, like I'm trying so hard to forget him?