I once told you my greatest fear was either a cut in my eye, dying alone, or claustrophobia. That's not true. Like Dumbledore in book one, I didn't tell you what I really see so clearly in my head that to tell the truth would make me explode. But instead of my heart's deepest desire, it is the darkest fear in the corner of my mind. The thing that gnaws at my thoughts as I go to sleep. I'm afraid everything I know and love, everything I believe in and keep close to me, is a complete lie. Ironic, how I lie to mask my fear, my pain. It's completely irrational, I know, but sometimes I can't sleep because I'm afraid that by tomorrow I'll find that everything I thought was my guiding light was really the worst ploy on my humanity. I'm afraid that I'll go to sleep, and wake up where everyone decided I wasn't worth the effort to be around, and finally just tell me they kept me around as a tool. And the thing is, if that ever happened, I don't think I'd be surprised. I'd just break. When that happens, the optimistic cynic in me will crash into bland pessimism, and the pink fluffy unicorns become the real demons they are.
So judge how you will. I just think putting this here is fruitless because no one really reads this.