This quote:

“I was not afraid of horror, I was afraid of beauty, of what it could do to me if I let it.”

— Vanessa Veselka, Zazen (via redlmnd)

I confessed something like this to someone, but I feel like expressing how I really feel about things can make someone feel differently about me. Maybe they’ll embrace me with loving arms. Or maybe they’ll get scared.

For the most part, I’m pretty happy, grounded and content with things in life. It’s not until I stop to take a second to think where things deviate from face value.

My thoughts and feelings are quick and fleeting. They come and go as they please. Most times, I feel like there’s no one else to share them with or no one else who can relate other than writing them out in letters to people who might read them. The idea of sending out a letter to no receiver is always exciting. Who would read it? What would they think?

The irony of it all is that I don’t want anyone to. Just the thought of it is exciting. But really, what I’m more scared about is that someone will care enough to want to figure me out, or want to fight my resistance of the truth that maybe there is someone who wants to crack my code. I want to be unstoppable; I want to be enigmatic. I want to be the mysterious thing that doesn’t make sense, but you can never get out of your mind.

What it all comes down to is that the thing I’m most scared of is what I truly and really want. And the most ironic thing of all is that I possibly have someone who’s close enough to breaking down all my walls and defenses — unstoppable, enigmatic, and whom I can never get out of my head.

Goodness, you frighten me. Yet I love you, I really do.