Fear hunts every bone in my body; it lives in the deepest parts of my mind. Even as I avoid it, or do not give in to it, I know that it is there. I suppose over time, it has become a part of me, and I am scared to think that I might not be able to free myself from it. I picture it to be a bruise that gradually has expanded to cover my entire body.

I believe that the way to break free from this fear is to treat it as I would treat a bruise. I have to give my body, myself, enough time to heal and be stronger than I was before I got injured.

Alas, my faith in this theory gets a little shaken with every day that passes. This enormous bruise has been deforming me for five years, and it has not even begun recovering. I am slowly getting impatient from feeling trapped in my own skin. I want to be liberated again; I want to take a breath while standing by my territory’s lake and be satisfied by it.

I am well aware that there is a possibility that all these things can end up being little fantasies that I will never get to experience. I try to be positive when I think about the little things that I want, but it is hard to do that when you know that you have been cursed.

My life would have been easier if I knew what my curse is, but until this day it remains completely and utterly mysterious.

Thus, I am wary of almost everything good that happens to me. For all I know, one of them can end up being my curse. I just pray that my mother’s pregnancy will be the beginning to the change I desperately need.

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