what is your greatest fear?

we go around the room listening to people’s answers—i pretend to lend a keen ear, but i’m actually racking my brain for a good response.

i scan through the usual list: heights, spiders, the dark. nothing seems to faze me. ha. i trick myself into thinking i’m mentally stronger than everyone else.

and then it dawns on me, that what i fear most is the people closest to me realizing they don’t want me anymore. part of me knows that one day they will look at me for all that i am, see all that is flawed, weigh it with the little i give in a friendship, and remember that there is nothing that bounds us together, nothing that demands them to stay.

i grew up in a family that taught me that friends are temporary, and there is “no such thing as a close friend,” because they will eventually tire and leave anyway. i was taught to never get too vulnerable with someone, because they would betray my trust in the end.

i’m shamed for smiling too hard at my phone when i’m texting with friends, or screaming too happily at their presence, or taping their letters on my wall.

“why don’t you just move in with your friends if you love them so much?”

“all you care about is your friends. your family means nothing to you.”

i have a complex relationship with friendship. there's a terrible loneliness accompanies friendship as i struggle to navigate through what i was taught and the joys of creating connection with the people around me.

the truth is that it’s tough for me to have friends, and to be a friend. every rush of happiness in their presence is then followed by guilt and shame for experiencing it, and then wondering how long this happiness will last. i wish people closest to me could understand this, but i know it’s an impossible ask when in life we’ve been conditioned to believe so differently.

it’s hard for me to imagine someone loving me for everything that i am. i’m scared that time will act as a curtain, and people will soon discover a part of me that is intolerable. and so, i’m extremely sensitive. i over-analyze every text message, every reaction, every sigh, every facial expression, in fear of some indication that they’re growing tired of me. i don’t want people to know this pathetic part of me.

when i look at my friends, there’s a sort of disbelief that dawns on me, that my presence is wanted and cherished. and so i try to be the funny friend, to crack jokes, make people laugh. because it is then that i can physically see people smile and laugh at what i say, and i’m reminded that i bring them joy.

but even then, there's a dread that lingers, whispering to me that the power of laughter is not enough, that one day, they might just find the weight of my insecurities too much of a burden, too tiresome to carry.

“i’m scared of friendship.”