Untitled

im perpetually terrified of growing up. some days, i can forget facing the future, some days i can escape the looming shadow over my life.

but most days, i wake up and my head is filled with thoughts about life and living. 

im terrified of growing old. of being mature, of losing the small ounces of innocence i have left.

im scared of doing new grown up things, like moving into my own house and falling in love.

im scared of being alone.

i try to stamp it out of me, try to smash those cowardly and mutated thoughts into small bits and pieces. but those tiny shards of insecurity manage to turn into small seeds and root their way back into the matter of my brain. and as the fear and avoidance grows, the scarier thoughts become louder.

this october was the first time i ever contemplated suicide. 

because i cannot see myself as anything but myself of now, of myself of the past. i cannot see myself growing old, creating a family, becoming independent. i am and forever have been and will be small and naive and carefree. 

and what’s wrong with being myself in the now? i can forever be content in the memory of someone, who will remember me for my youth. i will live on forever in the heads of many, never aging and never failing the potential. if i never grow old, i can never fail anyone.