I am afraid.

Afraid I’ll never make it as a published writer.

Afraid that I will never finish a novel.

Afraid that I should be pursuing more normal hobbies, like exercise, or drinking.

Afraid of all the success stories I hear.

Afraid of all the failures that creep around the edges of my opportunities.

Afraid I’m not social enough.

Afraid that I’m too social.

Afraid my words aren’t good enough.

Afraid my words will never be good enough.

Afraid that everything I ever wanted to be is not what I thought it would be and what it is is something that I can never be.

 

I am afraid.

 

But I’m not giving up.

 

I’m not giving up on my dream to become a published author.

I’m not giving up on my novel.

I’m not giving up my dangerous writing hobby (who needs to be normal?)

I’m not giving up after hearing success stories.

I’m not giving up to avoid failure.

I’m not giving up on quiet evenings with a book, ignoring my phone and friends.

I’m not giving up on finding new people, laughing, meeting up with my loved ones.

I’m not giving up on my words.

I’m never giving up on my words.

I’m not giving up even if everything I wanted to be is not what I thought it would be, because through it I can become something I never thought I’d be.

 

I am afraid.

But I won’t always be.

 

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