Sweet anticipation flutters in my chest.
Dread accompanies doubt.
Confusion fogs my thoughts.
The idea of going brings childlike joy.
The idea of going brings paranoid fear.
Why does leaving fill me with dread? I have no idea. I’m always excited to go! Researching all the fun places to see and things to do. Then the realization that I will have to actually leave, to go, sets in.. settles in me. That’s when the dread starts.
What if we’re in a car accident?
Or catch some illness?
It’s like this crazy paranoid person starts taking over and all the fun anticipation is poisoned.
I’ve got this.