This is from the point of view of Em, the main character in my novel-in-progress
What am I scared of? A few weeks ago I would've said nothing. I would've even told myself that, answered with the one word before I even gave the question any thought. Now I'm realizing that I'm scared of my life continuing on like this, so lonely, so alone.
Before Carrie died, she was the only person I needed. Even when she was in New York and I was in Boston, just knowing she was out there was enough. Knowing that someone, somewhere understood me, saw me. I never would've said that to her, never would've even thought it. I just knew it in my gut.
It's been five years since I've felt like someone got me. I have friends who I drink with and play darts with. We do trivia once a week. From the outside, it would seem like I had created the family I didn't have growing up. But they don't even know about Carrie, let alone what I think or feel about anything other than the Red Sox, the sloppy old guys who sit at the bar, and the various political stories of the moment.
It's terrifying to think of going through life like this forever. The only thing scarier? Actually opening up.