I am fearful.
Anxious.
Worried.
The space between my shoulders pinches from tension.
I can be morose.
I think I wear these things on my sleeve when really they are just tucked inside my shirt pocket.
Hiding fear is what I do.
Facing fear is what I hope to teach my children to do, though I'm no longer sure such a thing can be learned.
Fear seems to be what we learn.
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