fear like erosion. more and more the shore crumbles into the sea. yet the shore is still crumbling and fear both advances and retreats. something like that? perhaps. yet there is natural erosion, the contours of the land shaped by the patterns of water moving, depositing bits of us elsewhere to make a new body of land that will be eventually displaced or submerged or further eroded.
there's so much in my head. i try to placate the agitation with words and pictures, knowing they're just words and pictures. what do i feel. i'm trying to illustrate what i yearn to know. is that true. what is real. what about the fear is real. is the fear ghosting me. is the fear a self-sabotage.
if fear is erosion the shore needs natural protection. but the water's rising anyway. love wants to protect the shore with nature. but we build walls around the sea. it's inevitable, it's rising. is love rising too. is there protection despite what we do. what if we sabotage our only chance at love. it sure feels late for me. almost sixty. my mom was seduced by a seducer. he called himself a romantic. two wives later, his skin sallow like wax, his body gaunt and bent like a mute query, he said doesn't your old man deserve romance. is that a question i ask. my god what we become in our pursuit of a dream.  
i have to get real here now. whether i can think clearly or not this is happening. i could sabotage the one saving thing almost unconsciously, almost deliberately. i could again sabotage me. 
my mind says what if i don't love enough. my mind says fear. my life shaped and eroded by fear. yet saved by love, if. if i don't sabotage. in one month and 11 days i'll be sixty on the winter solstice. part of me does not want to get old alone. that's a fear. i don't want fear to rule over love. i have to try again, i have to let love in.