HIS

Someone asked me recently, "What's your biggest fear?"

It took long for me to collect my thoughts. I echoed the question "What do I fear?" I thought of all sorts of things, phobias. Snakes? Spiders? Falling? Dying? Hell?

But I always come back to it. I just knew.

Being alone. Forgotten. Unloved.

I will never be with someone. I will never be content. What are you thinking? That's not what I meant.

When I go up the stage I feel exhilarated. It is my calling. To be surrounded by people who cheer for me, scream my name, listen to me. Love me. That is my life. My home.

But.

When the lights turn off, microphones pulled, suits removed, I feel stripped. . Lonely. I feel needy. Constant validation is a drug. Yes, it's my home. My escape. My disease.

I envy my colleagues. How do they separate their personal life from their career? How could they? What is the secret? How to be normal? How do I drown the cheers? How do I stop? How do I start living?

The interviewer looked at me expectedly. I still couldn't find my voice. I was going to explain myself but couldn't. Like the questions in my head I struggled to answer, or even admit, I couldn't muster the strength to be honest. Instead I smiled. Joked. Gave a trivial answer. Never true to myself. Always lying. Always avoiding. Always unsure.

I hummed one of my songs.

All my life, I’ve never been alone. I was always with someone, thriv