Time.

Scared is not a word I would say that I use often. And I say that because it scares me to admit that I am scared, and for a lot of reasons.

I’m scared to get up and walk in the mornings because I don’t want to find yet another injury on my body preventing me from running. I’ve had too many and I am tired of them. I just want to run, hopefully fast.

Sometimes I am scared when I am walking to my car at night; I don’t know who is around the next corner, or if someone is hiding under my car. I know they are somewhat irrational fears, but I’ve also experienced some weirder stuff. So, it could happen.

A lot of times I am scared that I’ll never be able to figure out myself. At one point in my life, I had discovered that I could be a pretty awesome person. I walked into rooms with confidence and assuredness. Now I walk into rooms with a somewhat false sense of those things. I never know what to do anymore, as though I am lost and alone, even in the most crowded of rooms. Sometimes I hide. Not like the game, but I stock up on blankets and I climb into bed and hide away for a little bit. I have even found ways to hide in broad daylight in a room full of people. I stop talking. I get quiet and I just listen.

Most of the time, I don’t know if people will like me. I am a little weird. Ok, a lottle weird. Sometimes you find those people who accept that weird, and sometimes you don’t. I once opened up to some that found my cookiness enjoyable, even attractive. And that didn’t really work out in my favor in the long run. So I stopped opening up. There are some scars there, and they are still a little too tender.

But sometimes, sometimes I open up. Not so much because I am comfortable, but because it needs to happen. It’s been festering and brewing for far too long and something needs to be said about it. Sometimes the story isn’t fully told because those details are still too hurtful. And sometimes I hold back the tears because I am just not ready to cry. Mostly because I am scared I’ll never stop again.

All the time, I am scared I am too damaged and broken for someone to keep me in his or her life. It scares me to think that that damage could be inflicted on someone else.

Here’s the thing about being scared: It makes us do some crazy stuff. And all the time, I am scared I will stop trying. So everyday, I try a little more.