brave

I need a reason to be here. I need to know why I haven’t called home after all this time just to say I need to get out of this messed-up city. I need to know why I still haven’t broken down into tears after looking out the window of this kind of reality. Why did I choose this path full of turns and detours and tunnels with missing lights? It always feels like going through uncertainties. Tell me one good reason why I’m making this risk.

My truth flares inside of me. This room I’m in is like my safety shell. The truth is it scares me every time I break out of it. It scares me that every time I do, I wouldn’t find a way back. That every time I do, I’d think, sit still, stare, disappointed for more reasons. I’m even scared of people and everything else.

I must be brave. Because for some reason, even if it scares me, I still manage to step out of my door and watch what happens next. All my doubts and negative thoughts tend to disappear as walk away from my safety. The odd feeling in my stomach remains but as I continue trekking a new path, it fades away. For some reason, the feeling of going through something is better than moping in a silent room. For some reason, it feels a whole lot better learning how to survive out in the dark.