I was doing fine for about 24 hours, but then the guilt hit. We were watching a movie and it hit like a water balloon. It sprayed from my hair and dripped down my face and my shirt, the sudden splash of the impact I might or might not have had. My sister knew it was coming, though she didn't know when; she saw it hit.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I knew I would anyway before I did it. Hell, I knew I would do the hurting, and not have it done to me, from the beginning. That was always how it would be. "Unless we screw something up, we'll be together until August." But you did nothing wrong, and I still went back on that word, however flimsy it was. I wish I could clone myself and make you a happier person without imprisoning myself to a sentence that would never be long enough.

The reason I'm so scared of college? It doesn't feel like I'm just going to change or that my surroundings are going to change. To me, the day I go to freshman orientation is the day of my execution, when almost all of the "me" that I know will die. And consciously, I know about reality: I know I'll see everyone (or almost everyone) again and that it won't be as different as I think. But no matter how many times I say it to myself, no matter how logically I can prove it, I'm still terrified.

I hate fear. It's ruling and ruining my life.