Why happiness is also a fear

Love, isn’t easy.

But when people come along

Who want to make it easier,

We ignore them

We push them away

Pull in those fears

And flash all those scars

In our mind

That they never gave us

In the very first place.

 

We all have phobias.

We all are scared of something or the other, something that haunts us in the best of our sleep,

Something that disturbs us every morning we wake up,

Something that hits us so bad that it makes us want to get into bed and never face the fear again.

Today, I want to narrate to you, a story about fear.

 

The fear of happiness

She was a happy-go-lucky person, a girl made of fire and ice, made of love and hatred, of happiness and sadness.

She feared a lot of things. Attachments, letting go of people, but more importantly she was scared of being happy.

We all have a phase in a life that we experience when we’re happy, in a manner that nothing affects us.

Along with which, comes a phase where the happiness is destroyed in just a second.

She had lost so much in her past that she was scared of falling in love,

Being happy,

And loving somebody more than herself.

With extreme love, comes extreme happiness which was her greatest fear.

All the times she had been abundantly happy, were the times which ended soon enough with the saddest endings.

Today, she’s scared when she smiles, when she laughs she thinks about a 100 other things that come along with it, and the very fear of crying her heart out the moment she was left all alone at 3am in the night.

She met her worst demons and was scared to let somebody else embrace them,

She was a jolly person when she was out with everybody surrounded with a dozen people around her, but when she made it till her room, that was the time when she realized nobody really intended to ask her how her day has been, how she felt with all the anxiety within her head asking her a thousand questions.

She found somebody who was willing to accept her scars, embrace her demons and loved her more each day, because she wasn’t perfect.

But what could she do?

What could she do if she always loved the person holding the knife and how could she differentiate between this one person and those in her past?

She trusted him, that he had come here to stay.

But she did not want to be too happy to let him bear all the sadness.

It scared her to let go of him, but she couldn’t be with him as well.

She’d probably never be able to accept the fact that she loved him,

Because she’d always felt so empty and broken.

 

 

 

Person in the image: Me!

Photography and editing credits: Umang Shah.