Inability

Reason 4

I was becoming afraid of myself.

Fear is weakness coming out of the body. Fear is something that makes you human, but to others, it makes you weak. If someone told me it was okay to not be okay, I would've laughed at them. If someone told me it was okay to be angry, to be sad, to cry, to not feel, I wouldn't have believed a word they said. So, as I lay in bed, wondering why I can't feel okay, I know good things will happen if I have perseverance. Or, perhaps, it won't be all good.

My mind wanders back to the beginning of summer when my boyfriend took me to The Mosquito Cafe. A smile appears, not being noticed until my cheeks start to ache. Such a simple thing as a smile scared me, made me want to crawl out of my own skin and escape to the depths of the earth. Not even the security of my blanket soothes the shivers running down my spine, nor the goosebumps perching at the edges of my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall, brushing against my silky soft pillow.

So what I felt was fear, right?

Colors danced behind my lids as the fatigue weighed me down, but sleep couldn't seem to come. Instead, short memories came to me. My sixth-grade past-self stood before the gigantic middle school, trembling as she tugged at her green chalked hair nervously. She shuffles forward before tripping over her untied shoelaces. Flashes of blue, green, and red lights appear, making the ground tilt slightly. I was suddenly inside the gymnasium, surrounded by sweating bodies hiding behind tiny masks. My seventh-grade self randomly jumped up and down, pumping her fists in the air, to a Drake song. She didn't care about the fact that she was wearing a dress or that she had lost her shoes earlier that night. That day was the first time I ever went to a party or homecoming.

The masks disappear and different people replace the seventh-graders. I noticed that I lost myself and dread encloses its grimy fingers around my neck as I start to frantically look for myself. Then there I was in a beautiful white dress that made me look mature yet young, walking towards my date. He was fidgeting as he stared at me in awe while I was just trying my hardest to not trip, a fake mega-watt smile plastered on my face. The guilt and regret clog my throat as I watch what happened only two months ago unfold right before my eyes.

The walls start to crumble and the people start to fade away. I stood in a collapsing maze with vines climbing up its aging stone walls. Something about me feels different, I can feel it in my bones that something has changed. The first things my eyes latch onto was my hair. It was in loose brown ringlets, amber highlights shining a red hue. I look down to find I had a golden complexion that was gorgeously dark against the ivory dress I wore. Its princess design had billowing silk, layer on layer creating a wide dome. My thoughts barraged me with questions I was unable to answer. From the feeling of motion and my spinning head, I knew I was running, gasping for air as I tried to hide.

But hiding from what?

All I knew was that I had to run, I had to push myself as far away as possible from whatever was chasing me. Their footsteps grew louder as seconds went flying by. Out of my own hastiness, I trip over a small step. The harsh impact has no effect on me whatsoever, no physical pain causing me harm, yet I grimace. I slowly turn my head around to where I hear the heavy breaths and see someone that makes my blood run cold. With raven hair and a green-eyed gaze, her eyes shine brightly as she stares down at me.

But she was me.

The actual me.

The anxiety caused my heart to beat at impossible speeds. As I stared at myself with a terrorized glare, all I could feel was surprise and confusion. I didn't understand what it meant to run away from yourself out of fear and in a dream. It was all doing wonders for my brain, giving me migraines as I tried to come to a conclusion. So, you could imagine the pure shock I felt when I finally realized what I was most afraid of in the entire world. The thing is, it explained why I was forever running away from nothing.

I was becoming afraid of myself.

Literally.

I wasn't running away from anything at all, I was just trying to hide from the emotions that I buried deep inside my soul. All I was doing was tripping over my own thoughts, trying to hide the way I felt by building walls around me and putting on a mask. My true self frightened me, and I didn't know why or how that came to be in the first place. No matter how hard I tried, my mind came back with aches and pain that made me want to tear my own hair out. It didn't make sense.

The landscape that surrounded me only a few seconds ago disappeared, darkness blinding my sight. A dim white light encompasses me, dust cascading to a stop at my feet. Still laying down, with my arms outstretched before me, mirrors gradually pull themselves out of the ground all around us. I don't dare to look up, feeling angst about looking at my own reflection reaching out to me.

"Curiosity killed the cat, after all," I mumble to myself bitterly.

My words echo throughout the empty void, frightening me and causing my eyes to widen. Tension builds in my stomach as I felt the bile rising at the base of my throat. When I finally looked up, my reflection was of someone I didn't even recognize. Tears stained my cheeks and I slowly rose from the smooth, bitter cold pavement.

Pouty pink lips replaced my own, a nonexistent Cupid's bow instead of a strong one. Sapphire blue eyes looked back at me kindly, my deadly green eyes no longer there. A voluptuous figure stood in the reflection before me with a larger bust, narrower waist, and smooth curves. Everything I saw was something I dreamt of, things I wished I had. But looking at my reflection now, I wasn't as happy as I thought I'd be. No, instead I was disgusted with myself for wanting something I couldn't have, something that I wasn't allowed to have.

Why had I wanted this?

I turn to look at the green-eyed girl and my entire perspective of myself changed. Her — or my — hair no longer looked like a frizzy mess, the curls now looked effortlessly beautiful to me. My complexion no longer seemed like a sickly yellow, it looked healthy with its rosy cheeks and radiant glow. My eyes were emerald instead of moss green, shining like a jewel under the sunlight. I no longer felt the need to hide my tiny hands or cover up my big butt with layers. Though I still questioned how I felt and who I was, I finally found peace with myself.

When I looked back into the mirror I saw me. The girl with shiny green eyes and curly black hair. The girl with freckles and a crooked smile. The short girl with tiny hands and feet. The happy and real girl. Because of what I saw, I smiled, knowing that I would no longer feel the need to hide after I woke.

My goofy grin deepens at that knowledge.