I had a fear. I was broken, crushed, grief-stricken and I had a fear. In fact, I had more than a fear.
I had a fear of never being able to trust somebody again.
I had a fear of placing my confidence into someone, a fear of believing, depending, expecting and then getting disappointed.
I had a fear of getting disappointed, being let down by somebody I praise, vanquished by a warrior I once considered a hero, my hero.
I had a fear of being fooled by a merry phase, blinded against the truth that this phase is about to end.
I had a fear of having to face the end, having to confront a reality I have been avoiding to grasp.
I had a fear of oblivion, a fear of having it all and waking up to find none of it all.
Above so, I had a fear of letting go of my fears, for each fear was my shield, my armor, my ultimate protection, a road to living in caution, an open door to escape the actual world, the harsh world.
I had fears that dug a hole in me. I had fears that brought me emptiness, numbness, apathy.
I feared anything and everything, eminence and nothingness, greatness and pettiness.
I feared and feared and feared.
I feared until I found my sanctuary, my real escape from the cruel world, protection against every fear, against every dread, against every doubt.
I found safety. I found shelter. I found you.
But then, I had a fear.
In fact, I had more than a fear.