the chains that keep me here

I fear birthdays. I cry every year.

I fear that I'll never get married. I don't possess the strength to trust someone that much. 

He could leave me.

He could find someone better.

He could see me the way I see myself.

I know he'd walk away if he saw that.

I fear that if I died today, no one would know what to say at my funeral.

That no one would care.

That no one would cry.

I fear that I'll settle. That I'll sell myself short. That I'll never reach my potential.

I fear motorcycles. I replay that day in my mind all the time and flying through the air isn't as fun when you don't know if you'll be awake when you hit the ground. 

I fear pavement that isn't so forgiving.

I fear every text you send and every call that I ignore.

I fear what you'd have to say if I picked up.

I fear what your mom thinks of me and how I can never form a coherent sentence when she asks about my plans.

I fear that I don't have plans yet.

I fear what goes on when I close my eyes because my first instinct is always to flinch. 

I fear death and I fear dying before I have a chance to live. High school is a coma that some people never wake up from. I fear that I'll be one of them.

I fear what your eyes will make me do. That I'll believe those apologies that only came because I called you out. 

I fear that my smile will never be real again. I fear that you can tell it's fake. 

And if you can, please don't tell anyone.

They can't know that I forgot what it was like to be happy.