You sit in the pit of my stomach, a rock, an unwelcome but also familiar knot of discomfort.

But how is it that you also arrange yourself in my mind, lacing my thoughts like a sickly smoke, intertwining and tainting? You are a haunting, a ghost no one invited, even so, I entertain you.

You seep into the cracks of me that aren’t otherwise filled, like a handful of slime squeezed in a fist; you overflow, you stick to my dry skin, not as moisture but a reminder of what I lack. Something small I forgot to do.

I tell myself to be stronger than you. I tell you to be quiet. A mantra, a prayer, a desperate plea that you ignore.

You and I seem to have something in common, at least. Neither of us will listen to me.

“Why would anyone listen to you?” You seem to ask.

I just want to be heard, to be appreciated, like everyone does. Heaviness weighs inside my chest. Sadness, I think, maybe despair.

You tap my shoulder in every happy, confident moment to steal something from me and I wonder, is this something that happens to everyone?

You whisper my name, “Heather,” as if we’re good friends, well-acquainted—and I suppose we are, you’ve known me my whole life—“You aren’t good enough; they’re going to pass.” You’ll never make it. Your dreams will never come true. Time is running out. You’re too old. No one cares what you have to say.”

I’ve believed you.

“Don’t sing. They will laugh at you.” You said, and I didn’t sing.

You have stolen my voice more than once. I allowed it. How much doubt have you sewn? How many dreams have you crushed? I’ve let you have your way, because I didn’t know better.

I did not know how to separate your lies from my truths and maybe I still don’t.

But at least now I know how to spot you. You and your clever manipulations. You, planting a seed of doubt and watering it whenever I permit. Maybe my fears will eventually be realized, but I can no longer allow you to stop me from trying.

Fear, you are a misuse of my imagination, and I mustn’t entertain you.

Even if you remain a lingering cloud on the horizon of my thoughts, I must endure the storm of my doubt. I must sing and write and share. I will.

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