Today is only the leftover of yesterday. I feel nothing, yet I feel everything. The numbness that helps to shield the heart only serves to push the ONE away. When faced with adversity, tuck tail and run. Or stand there dumbfounded with little of import to say. This is not the way. Do I know the way? Or do I pretend to know? Why the uncertainty? Why the willingness to do nothing when faced with all the possibilities? Fear. I keep coming back to it. Fear. I keep seeing it in my face. Fear. The nothing. The everything. The Spanish moss serving to strangle my love, my courage, my hope. The fear has always been the root. The seed. The kernel of sabotage. The reason I loathe. The reason I hate. The reason I shut out love. I know love. But am I truly open? Or does the fear shut me in my box and poke me with its stick of inaction. Its prodding of nothing. Screaming inside my head. Wishing the fear would abate. It does not. More damage done. How can you repair? You can't. You can't. Those that love me truly suffer. It is a thought I play in my head. Over and over until I want to claw at my clothes. Ripping them away like the fabric of fear. Tossing it aside to lay bare what I truly am. I am a source of love. I am the hope of the meek. I am the voice of the silent. I am trapped and I need to break out of the prison I have placed around myself. Too comfortable has this prison become that the real world seems frightening. I only hope that I have the strength to keep the hope alive. The hope that one day, I will make her proud. That I will let her know how much she has changed me, for the better. I am a work in progress. I am a stone, bleeding when struck. I owe her everything. I give her nothing... Why am I so closed? Rambling. Nothing is done with words... Only action. But the fear.... Oh how the fear frightens me...