“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m not afraid of monster under my bed. The dark is way too comforting for me to ever be afraid of it, it’s calm, it’s quiet, it’s when you can finally drop your mask and be yourself, it’s when you don’t need to pretend to be perfect to please everyone else. I’m not afraid of monsters under my bed, because I know where they actually are, and it is not under my bed, but within each person in this room. Everyone has a demon, everyone has something they regret.”

“Then, what are you afraid of?”

“Easy. I’m afraid of all the minutes where I’m alone. Where I’ve got nothing to do. Because that’s the time my thoughts come rushing in, and I just can’t control them. That’s the time, I can’t control myself. I’m not afraid of anyone, of anything. I’m afraid of this lonely moments, where I’m actually, afraid of myself.”

 

I better not be asked that question next year.

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