Jesse has given me a final curse; the fear of losing those I love.

I have always prided myself in not being afraid of anything, not even death. But now I openly admit that I am terrified of death--as something that can steal any of my beloved.

So when I climb up into the sky with Jacob, all I can think of is him falling, hitting the ground... and me, left behind, irrevocably damaged.

My worst fear is being left alone, behind, in a void of my loved ones.

Jesse gave me fear. How am I to combat this? Just this week two people from an earlier stage of my life died. Death will always be in front of us: mocking, beckoning.

I used to think I could fight anything. Draw my sword, roar, charge, and take it down. Now I find as I have grown older I have come to the realization that you cannot fight death. And it makes me feel weak. And exposed. And unprotected. Just the way I can feel up on a wall.

There is something about defying gravity and logic that made climbing so much fun for me. Here I am, high above the ground, where a human should not be. We were not meant to climb like a lizard, like a bug. We have two feet meant to walk on flat ground. Yet, here I am! Using man-made tools that prevent me from what should happen--a fall. This used to be hilarious, thrilling, and fulfilling.

 There is a problem now; I realize that there will now always be an inevitable fall. So in all my smiles, laughter, and certainty, there is a hint of solemnity.

Yes, this is all fun and games now, but we will all eventually die. Life is full of heartache, trials, and pain, and then we will have those we love taken away from us, one by one. Just as we, I, me, will eventually be pulled away from those who love me.

 Life is a shoving of people together, just long enough for them to form a bond, a stitching of flesh to flesh, spirit to spirit: then it is a tearing, a ripping of those bonds as Life veers to Death.

Give and take. Breathe in, breathe out.

 I am not a child anymore.