Sometimes I get scared. Not that there’s a boogeyman under the bed or that I left the iron plugged in, a different kind of scared. The kind of scared when you realize that you found your cosmic twin, when you see your soul reflected back in their eyes, when you think about them more times in a day than breaths you take. This fear isn’t born out of the immense magnitude of love I’ve never felt before or the overwhelming reality of a thousand lifetimes culminating in this very moment. No.

It’s the fear of loss. The fear of inadequacy. The fear of past life karma stealing you away from me. The fear you’ll wake up one morning and finally see that I’m not as wonderful as you’ve convinced yourself I am. That maybe my clumsy nature, forgetfulness and messes will prove too much to bear. That maybe you’ll find someone who tells better jokes and makes a living as a Jennifer Aniston impersonator. But then there are those times that you look at me. And it becomes so apparent in that instant. I feel the birth of the universe exploding and expanding inside my chest, I’m immortal, I’m free, I’m yours. Bust most of all, I’m fearless.