I choose fear over freedom because it’s the devil I know.

What does freedom look like? More importantly, what does it feel like? Is it like souring, gliding through the sky? Does it mean I can stand up for myself? Will freedom show me how to love myself?

Is it like swimming in the bay on a summer’s day? Floating along without suffering?

It baffles me and yet it does not. Fear is holding on. Freedom is letting go.

I need to let go to live.