This Fear

My confession?

I’ve failed at everything I’ve tried.

Except this.

Stupid. Worthless. Loser. How many times have people hurled these words like stones?

But I’m not made of glass. There’s stronger stuff below; a belief that runs right to the core.

I am destined for greater things.

My words will change the world.

Let the legions cast their venom; they do not know me.

Let the critics sneer; the joke is ultimately on them.

I know I can do this. A writer I am meant to be.

Forget about the past failures; they’ve made me who I am. The external world does not faze me; the real challenge lies deep within.

This fear. I must get over it.

What will they see when I am finally revealed? Will they give me a chance? Identify with me?

No.

It does not matter.

They will see I am just like them.

Full of hope. Conviction. Dreams.

And that is all that matters.

I need this, I must confess.

I must find a way to make this work. Find a way to finish. Only then will they see the masterpiece underneath.

I will put myself before them. The entire tapestry, not just a shred of cloth. Myself. My whole self.

I refuse to cower. Refuse to give up.

This fear…just a fool’s errand…

Words echo inside me, fire threaded destiny. Can’t hold them back any longer.

Then I realize what’s gnawing at me.

These words, flowing so beautifully. Such emotion, raw and pure. My one talent, my only talent, please don’t let me screw this up.

I take a deep breath. Calm my mind. And ride the lightening.

This lingering fear is vapor.

I am ready for the next step.