In my young life, I have come to understand the tragic reality of human nature. What I mean is that we, in general, admire things we are not and sometimes, can never be. Ultimately, I admire strength. Not just of physical prowess. But of other, more intangible traits. Strength of mind, of character, and the like. I used to think I had all of that. But as I’ve grown and encountered all sorts of people with all sorts of stories to tell, I’ve realised that my idea of strength isn’t very strong at all. And maybe it’s all about perspective, and if so, my perspective is skewed and uneven and I don’t know how to get back onto an even playing field. I guess I’m just afraid that I’m weak in pretty much every sense of the word. I’m worried that I have no strength of mind, because I constantly bend and break over tiny things. I get hung up on people and things that shouldn’t matter, but do. And I’m worried I have no strength of character because I change my ideals so easily based on other people. I used to believe that I was strong and stable and independent. But now I’ve come to admire those qualities the most. So does that mean I’m not strong or stable or independent? Because I rely so heavily on certain things and I don’t know how to stop it or even how it started in the first place. I’m just afraid. All the time. And everyone knows that being afraid isn’t very strong at all.