You have this idea of people in your head, these analyses and theories, but you never truly know them. You could go your whole life hardly knowing your beloved, and I think that’s frightening. You know yourself though and you just think, what am I without this? What am I without school or writing or etc. that’s the foundation of who I am, what would I do without it? Whenever I get scared or need comfort, I run towards my books, towards my writing. I look for my safety blanket, but what if it isn’t enough someday? What if the foundation of my ease becomes my angst? Maybe not reading or writing, but school? What if the fear consumes me.