The following is my entry @ The Unsealed for the writing prompt "Write A Letter To Your Fear"
Hard-Won Freedom: A Farewell to Harm
Dear Fear,
I know you’re upset I left you behind. There wasn’t enough room in the car for all your baggage and, if I’m being honest, had we brought you along, we never would have reached our destination.
This note may be little consolation, but it’s all I have to give. I will always owe you a debt of gratitude for showing me the danger ahead. If you hadn’t, the kids and I might not be alive today -not all of us, anyway.
Thank you for walking me out the door.
I can’t say I wish you were here, but sometimes, it’s like you are.
Sometimes, I realize I’m holding my breath for no reason.
On days I’m running late from work or the store, my heart races just like you used to make it do. But when I walk in, no one yells or slams a door. Suspicious accusations do not season dinner, and no one leaves the table upset. So, I exhale and keep moving.
I thought I saw you, that day, in the courthouse bathroom mirror. But when I looked closer, it was Courage staring back. You two look alike in a certain light.
I know you expected to hear from me sooner. We’ve been so busy rediscovering home.
It’s beautiful here. Safe, too.
Granny’s old house is a bit “mend-and-make-do,” but we toss eggshells in the garden instead of carpeting the rooms.
Hues of hospitality drape the walls. Music, not cursing, drifts down the hall.
The furniture is never thrown.
Open windows welcome kind-word breezes. The warmth of good friends coax our roots to grow. Drinking from a deep well of compassion, we’ve forgotten the road back to you.
I almost called you when Anger threatened to shatter our stability. But Family comes before Fear in my contacts, so I reached out to them before resorting to you.
They reminded me you’re bankrupt now, your energy all spent on fencing us in.
I know we will cross paths someday. But I’ve already grown so much since we left. You might not even recognize me when we do.
Oh, but Fear, won’t I recognize you? That insidious whisper, those suspicious, dark eyes? How could I ever forget your too-tight grip on this slipping-down life?
I will meet you head-on and return the favor. I will escort you through the door and send you back where you belong.
Fear, you excel at crocodiles and sharp lightning. Because of you, people avoid speeding tickets and poison ivy. But you can be irrational, too.
I know your real name is Afraid. It used to be my name, too.
Remember when we talked about your empty-bucket soul? How you never felt fulfilled because you couldn’t fix that hole?
There is a patch called Love. You really ought to try it. It covers everything.
First, sand away blame and excuses. It is a crucial step. Then allow it to seep down and completely absorb your being. Be careful not to confuse it with Indulgence, which costs more and eventually corrodes. Love’s brand is gritty and forms much thicker skin. Once it takes hold, the results are eternal.
Listen, Fear, I need to say this outright: we are never coming back.
Please do not pursue us. We’re doing just fine. In fact, we are better off now.
I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy your time. Perhaps you can roam the beaches, reminding everyone about sharks or rattle tree limbs against the windows of sleeping children in the dark.
Give our regards to your mother, Pride and to your father, Cowardice.
Tell your sister Avarice we desire no visitors at all.
I bid you an ardent farewell.
Sincerely and Securely,
Hard-Won Freedom
