The truth is: I’m afraid.
I’m afraid of not fitting in, being the outsider.
I’m afraid of making a difference. Some kids my age are doing wonderfully bright and talented things, and I’m sitting on my bed, barely containing tears.
I’m afraid of being alone; I’m tired of feeling alone. I have friends. Friend who don’t seem to care.
I’m afraid of being part of a group. I’m afraid of being a leader.
I’m afraid of responsibility, afraid that I’ll mess things up.
I’m afraid of being judged, but always judge others.
I’m afraid of not reaching standards; I’m afraid of being in someone’s shadow.
I’m afraid of not being good enough.

I’m afraid of letting life slip by, but it seems I’m afraid of living.