(Fear) or Watershed Moments

Diving right in. . . 

The moments when everything changes, when things are irrevocably new and returning to the way things were is an impossibility, that is what I fear most.

I dread the realization that everything I knew is no longer valid, and my world is no longer what it once was. . .

More than any creepy crawly, than movement in the dark, than heights great, or vivid dreams of the walking dead, watershed moments fill me with a quiet terror and a disquieting sense of loss.

Maybe it is childish, immature (a fear of change lingering from adolescence), but it travels with me always.

It isn’t as if I am unable to function, to cope.  I oft times am able to wade crises with something like grace.  It’s the luxury of worry that trips me up, not the moments themselves.

The knowledge of how very fragile things can be is a difficult concept for me to leave be.  In a twisted way it is thrilling, to feel as if you are always walking next to a precipice.  It makes one feel alive, the adrenaline flowing through veins.  One cannot live like that always however, as one becomes frayed and worn with too much worry.

So I clutch depserately to the NOW as those drowning will clung to that which floats, and I covet those moments when I can pretend I reside immutable, amarthine and safe.

I wrap myself in a cloak of deliberate amnesia against the things I cannot control and hold my breath; my spirit sending up silent pleas to the universe to please, please, leave me at peace for just little longer.

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