I'm fooling everyone.

The stint was nice and long, but I feel it. I feel the change coming, that first crack in the glass. The one you can't see, but can feel only with your fingertip. You have to be careful not to get hurt.

What am I talking about? Fear. This fear of life crumbling and falling apart. I was telling D this a few weeks ago. I was telling him that I carry the habit of ruining good things, because at least I'd know I was in control of the situation. I ruin it before it gets bad, even if it's not going to get bad at all. What's "it?" Friendships, interests, talents, love... life.

I've been coasting since graduation. I'm comfortable. Too comfortable. I feel it coming to an end. This is the kind of fear that destroys people, relationships. Maybe I'm just finding solace in my insecurity right now. Maybe it's healthy that I'm second guessing the stability in my life. Maybe it won't pour, even if there are rainclouds in the sky.

The trip to Ghana jolted me back into reality. Before I went, I had a routine going. Worked during the week, read books or wrote in the evenings, had weekly Grey's Anatomy nights with the girls, spent time with family and friends on the weekend - and then the week would start over. I was becoming this normal person. I was happy with the simplicity of my life. I looked forward to my morning drive. Breakfast with coworkers. Lunch out at the pond. Thursday barbeques. Life was good. Life was great. And that was/is the problem.

I have always been a firm believer that when things can't get any better, they get worse. And I think I'm coming close to that line. I feel the breath of sabotage on my neck, and it's making the hairs on my forearm stand on end.

Maybe I really do have masochist in me. Truthfully though, it's not that I like being unhappy. It's just that I've been unhappy for so long that happiness is not a comfortable place for me. I've been unhappy for so long, that when I do taste happiness, I enjoy it so much that I fear it will be taken away from me. And I force myself to believe that I am being noble by giving up my smile.

I am just lost. I'm fooling everyone. I act all secure and sure of myself, when really, I have no idea what I want out of life right now. When everyone asks why I went to Ghana, I tell them it's because I wanted to teach. And the next logical question coming from these inquisitors was "So are you a teacher?" And I proceed to tell them I'm an Associate for an audit firm. And they answer me with quizzical faces.

I know exactly what's going through their minds, because it's the same thing that's going through mine. If you love teaching, then why aren't you a teacher?

And my answer to that is insanely pathetic. I'm afraid of failing. I'm the cowardly lion. You won't hear me roar.