Fear

I am afraid of spiders.

Tonight I pulled a blanket out of a chest and I shook it out before I wrapped it around my shoulders, I shrieked and leapt away from the big black spider that had appeared at my feet. The blanket was puddled at my feet as I gasped for breath. I went upstairs to grab a shoe to kill the spider and, when I returned, I looked down to aim for the spider and shrieked again--seeing for the first time the web that must've been rubbed from the blanket onto my sweater. Jumping up and down, I ripped my sweater off and stood there gasping from adrenaline once more. More than once I stalked towards the spider, only to run away when the spider moved. In between I watched it, working up my nerve to get close enough to kill it. Finally I forced myself not to run away and I killed the spider.

I am afraid of relationships.

More than a month ago he asked if I wanted to go out with him. That first night I could barely meet his eyes, afraid of crossing that boundary. Even as we started seeing each other I was tentative, afraid that I wasn't attracted to him and afraid that I didn't want to be with someone so naive again. As he kissed me goodnight on his threshold a couple weeks ago I breathed in his scent and felt myself start to relax for the first time, start to enjoy our kiss, and then I blinked at the distance I had already put between us. Last weekend I decided that it was time to decide for certain about our chemistry so I arranged for us to enjoy an evening together alone. We watched two movies, holding onto each other in the dim light, but each time he glanced toward me I looked away. Afterward I'd have normally said it was time for him to go, but the moment of decision had come and I leaned into him. Finally I didn't pull away.