Overcoming fear on a daily basis
“Someone says the most scary thing about fear is that it has no face.”
There’s a sudden beep and I open my eyes immediately. I can still feel my excitement burning. Seeing her nipples, feeling the fragility of her skin and my blood flowing quickly beneath my chest… my crotch feels wet and I’m sure I have to change my shorts at once. It’s 5.45 AM.
The bathroom light strikes me in the eyes as it was a table tennis smash. My eyes look reddish and tired according to the reflection in the mirror. It’s weird because while stretching my body, the mind feels like a monkey. All the daily duties are jumping from one branch to another, trying to hide in the leafage. Someone says the most scary thing about fear is that it has no face. I have to agree with that. My everyday duties look exactly like that — a faceless shape with sharp bloody teeth. I’m sure it has teeth but if it does, it’s gotta have a mouth and therefore a face, doesn’t it?
When I dress up, I look back to the bed. She’s still there, soft, warm, sleeping steadily. I would give all my heart to just slip under that blanket again, hug her bare chest and fall asleep beside her. Something more urgent stops me halfway, yelling to keep on dressing. It always takes so much time. I guess I could fit into the women world.
The darkness outside seems to be impenetrable and there is no hint of a sunrise yet. The terrible cold outside makes me tremble. “Man, it’s still October! I can remember wearing just a T-shirt last October.” I take a a few deep breaths and start running. The cold grip’s suddenly giving in. My breath starts to accelerate and so does my heartbeat. The first pitch is no challenge. It has about 100 metres and it’s the section where I truly start waking up from my night slumber. Hollywood Undead are screaming and echoing in my ears, filling my muscles and my guts with strenght.
As I’m coming to the intersection by the river I can feel the crisis coming. It seems like a game of chess in which you got the upper hand but you failed to exploit it. I can feel my heartbeat in my head and I’m starting to realize it’s just a matter of time before I’m outta breath. There’s a voice in my head convincing me to stop. I can almost see the glitter of those terrible bloody teeth.
There’s also her face. Not lying in the bed with her eyes shut but wide open, smiling warmly and whispering in my ear to move on. The voice is starting to raise it’s power. Suddenly I can hear her screaming at me, using some swear words like “bitch”, “cunt” and some others many of which my favourite speaker Dan Peña likes to use. It doesn’t matter to me how harsch the words actually are. I simply just run to the top of the hill above the housing estate even if it meant death to me. I’m breathless but happy that I was “cunt enough”.
Now the way home is all easy, still quite a long lane but now just going down the hill. Right now it’s about breathing properly, having Holywood Undead in my ears and her in my head. When I reach home, I take a cold shower (another come-on-you-cunt session) and then I sit to the side of the bed, close my eyes and meditate. The shape is nowhere to be seen now.
I can hear her yawn and feel her warm hand on my knee. I open my eyes and see her — half naked with straggly hair and no make up. The way she looks most gorgeous to me.
“Good morning,” she says.
I hug her tightly as we kiss each other.