I did.
There was nothing either spectacular or earth shattering this weekend. It was a normal weekend where Pete and I went to a motorcycle club campout. Well, we did stay in a hotel because we knew we wouldn't get to Hayward, WI until 9pm Friday night. Setting up the camper in the dark isn't fun and we usually fight. And I guess you could say that it was unusually cold for August. Well, there was also the fact that my music didn't work.
I had a good 7+ hours of riding on my bike by myself to do nothing but think and enjoy the ride.
When we got home I was wiped out. Between the cooler temps, the running around, and the wind, I was tired. Pete and I took the bag off the bike and settled in for a nap. When he woke me up an hour later I felt more refreshed, but still tired.
We lay, cuddled together in bed. His back to my front, my legs and arms wrapped around his. Then I told him my worst fear. And when I did, tears started coming out, as though the words were the keys to release the floodgates. As though my body had a instant response to my brain and my heart. They fell silently down my sunburnt/windburnt cheeks and slid over the side of my face into my left ear.
It's silly really. Because even though I say this is my worst fear, it's really not. My worst fear is something happening to Pete or my nieces/nephews or my parents; something happening to my job or Pete not getting a job. Those things are my worst fears, but they're everyone's worst fears. They're normal worst fears. They're things things that everyone can relate to. My worst fear is something that feels specific to me. Something that if I utter out loud, then it becomes real. If I say it, I then admit that it means something to me and I can no longer care that it doesn't. It feels akin to me telling everyone I was happy when I was single, just so they didn't know how lonely I was. It both breaks my heart and makes me smile.
But I said it. And Pete responded the best way that he could. Lovingly supportive. Confident. Calm and reassuring. And encouraging.
I think the fear you have is a very, very, VERY common fear - that the people in your life will be taken too soon. I had a long-term boyfriend who was a Marine and he was deployed to Iraq and was killed by a roadside bomb. (I blogged about this in February.) It crushed me for months and months, but eventually I moved on and appreciated what I learned from him and the person I had become. Yes, it would be horrible to lose someone you love, but you can't control it. And LIFE GOES ON. :) You are strong and wonderful! Please don't let yourself get caught up with "what if"s, and enjoy the life you are living!!! :)
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