Entwining Fears

Perhaps the most perplexing emotion I experience is a fear of fear itself. A fear of unsafety. A fear of being lost and alone and drenched in confusion. It didn't bombard me in quite a long time which made me think it will be gone forever, but here it is, creeping up to me slowly, allowing me to tumble and whither like autumn leaves rustling gently with joy, then thrown away by a hostile wind, to be left on the yellow dying grass, abandoned.

Yesterday, I started packing my things to head back to Egypt. To see all those bags on the floor attracts a picture of me in the airport, already saying goodbye by the conveyor belt, my eyes clouded with tears and a mind completely blocked and unable to function. Because at this moment, I don't want to leave, and I am afraid. I am afraid of going back to Egypt, not feeling purposeful, of being alone in my room hearing the ticks of the clock midst the silence in the room. I am afraid of not feeling like I belong, not being encompassed by love, guidance and a helping hand. It gets quite intense for at this moment in the airport, I have it all. I have all the love the could carry me up and help me be the best person I could be, but I am forced to let go. To leave.

The confusing thing is that, maybe I have a choice. Maybe I can just choose to stay. To never leave. Maybe I don't have to go back to a place I feel very shaken in. And this freedom of choice is awfully vast and confusing, and there's no guidance or omens showing me what to choose. But deep down, I know I have to go; I can see love from both sides. I can see love harnessed and kept scared in the distance, and a love in Egypt, sprouting with my purpose more pronounced. There is love in studying, my young home, learning to be a teacher and a leader. There is love spelled in the boundaries of hope of the future.

So, when my father and sister caught me struggling to catch my breath in the kitchen yesterday, my face swollen from unstoppable streams of tears, I never wanted to appear weak. My father, who has taught me to be strong, to challenge it all, to keep it inside and roar with fearlessness, saw me in such a state, so vulnerable and weak. Maybe I am strong, but at the same time, I am also a human, and I need to feel weak and ripped apart.

I know that I feel that way because a part of my identity flourishes when I am just out there caring for others, paying attention to their needs. A part of my identity thrives betwixt the arms of a loving family; always in need of growth and maintenance. Who said, though, that family only exists here? Isn't there a hope for the future? Isn't there an intention deeply embedded in my heart?

My entwining fears have so many narratives to tell and I am listening to them, cautiously. They're a part of me I will honour. Through them, I can see the other side: hope. Even if I do feel like an autumn leaf, that has fallen on the ground, it is it that shall make the grounds more rich and fertile. It is the sadness that shall paint a start for another climb, upwards.