At times such as these when I feel scared and vulnerable I realise I never matured and I am as much a kid as I was perhaps one or two decades back. Thinking about all the change in me and things around me that effect me, I begin to wonder if I ever wanted all this.
I think of times when there were lot of people (most of all, my father and my mother) to protect me, people I could run to, people who understood me, people who loved me for all my faults.
The thought that hurts me the most is me being all alone at a time when I need all the support. People who could have filled the void misunderstood me, like always. The thought that scares me is that of entering the bad world outside and not having anyone to fall back on without embarrassing myself. The thought that worries me is that nothing will be the same in another six odd months for the person whom I expected would understand me at all times has refused yet again, to believe me.
