Here are my fears. Keep them safe.

I’m afraid of revealing my fears. 

I’m afraid they will reveal me. And I’m so afraid of exposing who I really am. 

I’m afraid to be honest. 

I’m afraid that I know it’s time for me to trust. 

Trust and write.

I’m afraid that the ones I have worked so hard to build relationships with, will forget about the whys, and just get sick of me.

I’m afraid I’ll never feel closure for missing my best friend’s funeral. I’m afraid of our future memories that will never have a chance.

I’m afraid of how much I worry about other people. It can’t be healthy. I’m afraid no one will worry about me the way I worry about them.

I’m afraid I’ll be the initiator forever.

I’m afraid that I’ll miss out on a moment. One that could have changed everything.

I’m afraid I’ll keep putting off trying to reach out to my grandma. And then one day, it will be too late. 

I'm afraid my memories will never stop haunting me. I'm afraid I'll never be able to control that.

I’m afraid of dying from toxic shock syndrome. Seriously though. That’s probably the most awkward and embarrassing way to die.

I’m afraid of what people will think of me after publishing this.

I’m afraid someone will find out how much I read these blogs. I’m afraid people won’t know how much I appreciate every post. I’m afraid you’ll think I’m an ignorant nerd for saying that.

I’m afraid he has no idea what he did to me and will just make me feel guilty till the day I die. And he'll be happy. I’m afraid of how easily I break when I mention him. It makes me scared that no guy will ever want to deal with me. I’m afraid to admit that, because I just lost any potential with the guys reading this.

I’m afraid someone will figure out my password. It’s the same for everything. And super stupid.

I’m afraid of being the one who judges and the one who ignores.

I’m afraid that no one will understand how much I feel. They won’t know I’m crying for them, or how badly I just want to make them to feel better. I’m afraid of people using that against me.

I’m afraid my future husband will hate how much I love messes.

I’m too afraid not to thank Sophie Hatter. She makes me feel like someone understands. I needed that. I’m afraid I'm a creeper for saying this.

I’m afraid that no one will know how scary that was for me to admit. I don’t even know you.

I’m afraid I’ll lose my childhood memory box. Figuratively and literally.

I’m afraid how badly I want something to happen to me. Not death. But something drastic enough to be noticed. Drastic enough to make me a better person. To take my fears away.

I’m afraid of always being the one sitting awkwardly while everyone is texting. I’m afraid my company isn’t worth enjoying.

I’m afraid of explaining why I am the way I am. What if you think I’m just saying meaningless words? What if you think I want pity? I’m afraid of you never knowing.

I’m afraid for this school year to end. I won’t have a safe place to confide in whoever will listen. I’m afraid no one will listen. I'm afraid to leave Paris

I’m afraid my obituary won’t describe me right. And I will die a stranger.

I’m afraid to admit that I want the mountain to catch fire again. I love fire. I love the intensity. I love that it shows us how much we are not in control. I’m afraid that fire and I are on one side, and humanity is on the other.

I'm afraid of extreme cold. Like... Really afraid. 

I’m afraid of confessing my fears. I'm afraid to feel vulnerable again. I’m afraid people will think I have stupid fears. I hate saying that. I wish I didn’t. 

I'm afraid that this is too long, and people will get bored, and no one will finish it. I'm afraid there's no point in reading this whole thing. I'm afraid that my words will just get lost in the wind and vanish. Making my fears meaningless. 

I'm afraid I fear things that don't matter.