The Fear of Feeling it Again

I am afraid. Not of some ghost. Not of a test that I haven’t studied for (a common phenomenon among engineering aspirants). But of it happening again, of feeling it again. After everything I have experienced and gone through, every butterfly, every feeling of admiration, every moment of excitement seems like a dangerous thing to feel and experience.

It’s strange, isn’t it?

Once, I used to enjoy these feelings with her. As they grew stronger and stronger, I acknowledged them wholeheartedly. I let myself experience them and enjoy them for what they were. I never felt the need to question every butterfly or scrutinise every little excitement.

And yet, one experience later, the same thing starts all over again, only to be met with an entirely different reaction. A different person, a different beginning, and yet I find myself afraid of the very emotions I once welcomed.

I remember. When I first saw her, the butterflies, those little sensations in my chest, the excitement — I used to entertain it. I still remember how beautiful an experience it was. But that story ended a long while ago and I learned to let go to move forward. And now seeing the same thing happen all over again, my reaction seems full of fear and caution rather than excitement, even though the sensations and the butterflies are the same — a change that puzzles every brain cell Ihave

The human brain is truly complicated, a masterpiece of paradoxes, capable of welcoming something wholeheartedly, only to grow apprehensive of that very same thing after a single experience.

Of course, I don’t have to focus on this during my teens. But the thought of such a huge contrast in reaction to the same thing, simply because of a single experience, astonishes me and makes me realise just how complicated and ambiguous these things can be.

I guess whatever they say is right. These feelings, these sensations, these experiences, they are truly complicated and paradoxical, and yet somehow exist without any ifs or buts. It is strange how the very mind that allows us to understand so much can become so difficult to understand itself, reacting so differently to the same thing simply because it has lived through an experience powerful enough to shake it.

I am a teenager still figuring things out, documenting my experiences as I navigate life, all while working towards my goals and pursuing side projects in the hope of building a meaningful and bright future for myself. I am still learning, still making mistakes, and still trying to understand the complexities of being human. Perhaps that is what this stage of life is about: discovering things I never knew about myself, questioning what I once believed, and learning to make peace with the contradictions I encounter along the way. I don’t have all the answers, nor do I pretend to. I am simply trying to understand the world around me and the person I am becoming, one experience at a time.

At the end, all I would admit is that I won’t jump to a conclusion. I won’t pretend to know an answer. I won’t despise these new feelings completely, but I won’t embrace them either. I would leave this change alone for a while and see what happens next while I focus on things that matter. And I guess that’s the only rationale option.