‘I’m not afraid of losing you,’ I say. 'Sad, yes. But I don’t fear it.’
You question my indifference.
'I must not mean very much to you, then’, you say.
In the frozen fragments of time between consciousness and slumber and back again, I find myself staring unblinking at the whitewashed ceiling as I have for the last 6 hours, and the same question ticks and tocks back and forth in my head. Steady and unwavering, never stopping, keeping time with the hourglass growing heavy in my heart, gently burying us beneath the sandy call of responsibility, promise, duty and family.
And as suddenly as the dawn spills into darkness, I understand- fear is anchored by uncertainty. Fear stems from instability, it sprouts from doubt.
You and I? We don’t stand a chance in this universe. This conclusion is certain. Definite. Doubtless.
And this is why the opposite of fear isn’t courage, or bravery, or fearlessness, even.
The opposite of fear is love. Unconditional, certain, absolute love. Unmovable. Unshakeable.
'I’m not afraid of losing you,’ I say.
Perhaps in a parallel universe, the sands of time would fall differently for you and I.