To My Greatest Fear:

I think it may shock people to find out that you are my greatest fear. From the outside, no one even notices; masking is probably my best hidden talent, if I’m honest.

I’ll give you this: you’re not a conventional fear for most people, especially those around my age. At this point in our lives, most millennials are afraid of: career stagnation, falling behind their peers who may seem to have their lives together (i.e.: owning a house, being married with kids, etc), heights, snakes, the usual.

But not mine.

I didn’t use to be afraid of you; I actually used to know you. I want to say that you and I were something along the lines of best friends when I was a child, but I can’t remember.

And I can’t remember when you left me, either.

Or maybe I left you. Who knows?

Regardless, it’s been so long that I’m not sure whether to call you a friend or an acquaintance anymore.

Because it has been so long.

I’ve pretty much forgotten the way you made me feel. Sometimes, though, I think I may feel the ghost of you, which then catches me so off-guard that I immediately shut you down. I don’t know how to accept or respond to you during these fleeting moments.

Or maybe I don’t want to because I know you’ll leave and I’ll be left without you again, wondering if or when you’ll ever come back.

And if you do come back, will you actually stay for a much longer period? A week, a month…a year even?

Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Recently, I was at a point in my life where it felt like things were going well for the first time in ages and I was more scared than ever of this feeling. More scared of you.

It turns out that it was for good reason: tragedy struck my family in a way that no one was expecting. This is not the first for us, but it was still as impactful as if it was.

I know what it’s like to suddenly have your entire world shattered in the blink of an eye; my world did a few years ago, and it was just a few months ago that I was able to start picking up the pieces.

Now it’s like a big gust of wind came and blew them all away again.

I also know what it’s like to completely lose sight of your former self, because you didn’t know yourself then: your interests, your hobbies, and your goals. I didn’t know or really have any of them.

Today I still don’t know any of them. I realized it when someone recently asked me, “What do you want to do?”

You know what my response was?

“I have no idea.”

You’d think that those four words would be a terrifying thought at my age, this age where we should have a clear direction of where we want our lives to go, but they’re not. I’ve finally learned that life doesn’t end when you age out of your 20s; life actually starts in your 30s. And I’m finally starting to figure out who I am.

I believe this journey will lead to you, Happiness, because I’ll be doing what I want to do: living for me instead of others for once.

But I’m absolutely terrified to do it.

Because I’ve never done it before and it requires change and a different kind of strength that I think is within me, but I don’t know for sure because I’ve never tested it.

How do you make a leap like that without a sure landing?

Happiness, if you remember me, you’ll remember that I need to know ALL of the details before committing to something. I’m not a spontaneous person; I’m not a “oh, let’s just try this right now” kind of person.

I promise that I’ve been working on it though: my motto this year is “I’ll find out when I get there”. I’m working on myself and taking part in activities that I think will lead to our paths crossing again.

Happiness, I know that it takes work to really know you and I’m willing to put in the effort. I know you don’t just show up out of the blue; that’s not your style.

Know that I haven’t given up on finding you again. I can only hope that you haven’t given up on me and are willing to meet me halfway as well.

Your friend (hopefully),
Me

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