I wouldn't be afraid if I was dropped in some foreign country, where I couldn't speak the language and had no one to turn to. I wouldn't be afraid if I was deprived of all my posessions, or any of the things/people I'm used to being around and interacting with.
Because those are things I can face.
But then there are the faceless things, the ones that come at you from the inside, insidiously. The ones that don't really even come at you.
A change of heart.
Like you just wake up one morning and find that the door's been left wide open. And you're not sure who left but the cold wind's blowing in a new season and you're confused, the hollow type and not the swirling leaves in the entryway type of confused, and so you shut the door.
And I'm afraid. Of the sudden departure of someone unknown, of the chill of an unanticipated fall, of the hollow confusion that knows no words, and most of all, of the door that shuts.
Because I've been on the other side.
Not that it's better, or worse, it's just cold and I constantly forget.